The Barista

[Permabulger]

So hot

 

[Dream Big]

I think my personal record was five. And I was dehydrated the next day!

 

[Permabulger]

My personal record in a row without stopping was 4 and we were really going for it. My record in a day was like 6-7 but almost got raw haha, that’s when being cut is not a blessing

 

[Shelbywank]

*****

“I don’t wanna go…” Stevie said, pouting as he put on his jacket.

“Your fault for telling me you were a fan of Doctor Who….”

“David Tennant was so dreamy.”

“And I’m not?”

“Shut up, you know you are.”

Unfortunately, I had to take him home. It wasn’t that bad — his roommates were cool with his showing up with a random older guy. Possibly because the age difference was far less obvious lately.

There was no other way to put it: especially with the shave, I looked a good ten years younger. I certainly felt better than I had in ages.

And aside from the gym and the coffee shop, I still didn’t have much of a social life. Hadn’t seen family in a year, didn’t have a ton of regular close friends. The only folks who’d notice my recent transformation were already aware of it.

Knowing I would see him again, I’d left Stevie with the best kiss I could manage (I was assured it exceeded expectations) and myself with yet another nearly ten inch boner. I’d have to take care of that when I got home.

Turned out I needed to knock out two very full helpings of ball juice before I could get to sleep — if it hadn’t been for the post orgasmic vibes I would have been annoyed at the change in routine. Bad enough I had to miss the gym and coffee shop on Monday…

*****

“These numbers are remarkable,” said the doctor. “We will see the results of the blood work in a couple days, but Christ, just look at you!”

“It does feel a bit excessive. I can’t believe it’s just one shot, a couple months ago now.”

“Caleb, nobody else has had the level of result you’ve seen. Your physical transformation is …well, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t measured you myself.”

“Most of me,” I corrected him.

“I suppose we should, for thoroughness.”

“Flaccid: 6.8 inches. Aroused, 9.9.”

“Huh, yesterday I came in at 9.75 almost perfectly. Am I still getting bigger?”

“Possibly. Let’s measure your height again. I have doubts.”

Sure enough, I was at least a full inch taller, now 5’11.

“Damn,” the doc said. “It almost feels like you hit puberty again, but the lab work will tell us whether that’s really the case.”

*****

I had another 3-5 business days before I expected to hear back from the doctor, but unfortunately Stevie didn’t have time off at the same time. In fact, he had an intense project to work on, and other than crossing paths at Cuppa Joes, we wouldn’t see much of each other.

That was fine by me. I had another project going anyway.

See, my little condo was still pretty empty, and I used my second bedroom as an office. But the office part itself was modest – just a desk, a chair, and a tall file cabinet on top of which sat my printer. Everything else was laptop-driven. And – embarrassingly for my zoom calls – the back was full of boxes of old crap I’d meant to go through for some time.

But it also had a weirdly large dining room that had a French-door, into the living room, and I almost never used it. I had a two-person table there (a holdover from a previous tiny apartment) and two chairs, and that was it. So I decided that I’d turn that space into my office, and offer the second bedroom to Stevie. If he didn’t want it, I figured I’d pick up some stuff and make it a home gym – winter was coming, after all.

So while Stevie was busy grinding away, I spent the rest of that day and all of the next rearranging my house. But that was finished by 2pm on Tuesday and I still had a week left. I felt restless and bored, so I went shopping. Cue me at Ikea a few hours later having basically replaced half my shitty furniture with less shitty furniture…though it was satisfying as hell to carry a ton of flatpack stuff by myself. Wednesday, I hit the gym pretty hard, and visited Stevie at the coffee shop after, then finished putting the shelves and such together that afternoon.

On Thursday, I woke up bursting with energy and hauled all my replaced furniture to donate. Still feeling “stoked”, I decided to hit the gym to work some of it off, and ended up there for something like three hours, plus another half hour taking full advantage of the hot tub and sauna. But while the hot tub was empty when I got into it, by the time I got up to leave, there were six other people in the thing. The tub was big, so crowding wasn’t an issue, but when I stood up, I realized that my swim trunks, well…they weren’t really up to the challenge anymore. The bulge was obscene. And I swear, the looks of shock, disbelief, and interest from the various people in that tub triggered something in me. I quickly wrapped myself in a towel and headed for the showers, but by the time I got there I had the father of all boners raging down below.

Thank goodness the gym had individual stalls, because I *needed* to bust one a nut like a fish needs water. My cock seemed bigger than ever – or maybe I was just super turned on for no reason. Either way, I knew I was closing in on double digits and wouldn’t be shocked if I’d hit it that day. The only reason I didn’t use two hands is that I needed one to brace against the wall. I was rock hard and it didn’t take long for me to blow a load that felt endless, and when that didn’t relieve the pressure, I switched over to cold water – that helped considerably. But I knew I’d need to continue at home. If I hadn’t unloaded I’m not sure my pants would have fit.

But it was unrelenting, and returned full force during the short drive back to my condo, so I carried my bag awkwardly in front of me to conceal it. The gym clothes were tossed into the bin as I stripped on the way to the bathroom.

The bathroom mirror showed someone who I barely recognized – if it weren’t my face there, I’d have guessed some underwear model had replaced me. My “swole” look had been a work in progress for months, but I’d really blown up the last few months.

But even that face looked about 30 years old, and if the body in the mirror were an underwear model, it would have to be for the extended sizes collection. I shucked the underwear and grabbed one of the rattier hand towels out of the closet, and pulled the tailor’s measuring tape out of the drawer.

Sure enough, my dick was now over ten inches long. In fact, it was closer to ten and a quarter. And it was so hard that it seemed like it was competing with itself to get bigger.

Friday was more of the same, but I didn’t stay as long in the gym because I was meeting Stevie afterwards for lunch at the end of his shift. For all my love of routine, I could make exceptions to the routine when it came to rare quality time with him.

*****

“Babe!” He bounded over and planted a big kiss right on the lips, right there in the middle of Cuppa Joes, eliciting a smattering of golf claps from the other staff and the handful of customers. He’d leapt into my arms and I had barely registered the weight. I blushed and looked around, but it was only a few people. Stevie wasn’t small by any stretch, probably around 170 pounds, but he really felt like a child in my arms. After dropping from the mid-200s down to 190, my own weight had crept up to 230 with all the muscle I’d added. I could bench about 350, but did 250 for reps these days.

“Glad to see you too,” I said.

“I can kind of tell,” he whispered. “Because otherwise you’ve got a mag light in your front pocket. Do you need to use the little barista’s room before we head to lunch?”

“I’d rather use the little barista,” I whispered back.

“Naughty,” he chuckled. “But we’ve only got about an hour, and I’m starving. For Food!!”

I was too, so I quickly agreed to rub one out in the restroom before we ran off. Say what you like, indy places like Cuppa Joes have either immaculate bathrooms, or terrible ones, with no inbetween – and this one was clean. Ten minutes later I was freshly emptied and feeling more like a human and less like an accessory to my own cock.

*****

Over lunch, I told him that I’d done some rearranging.

“Look, Stevie. I know it’s early days yet, but that second room is yours if you want it.”

“Really?”

“You don’t seem too happy where you are. No strings attached,”

“Fuck yeah, on one condition.”

“Which is…”

“I’ll pay you the same amount I was paying to live where I am now. I don’t want to take advantage of you, or look like a kept boy or anything.”

“I didn’t think you were,” I said.

He smiled and kissed me. “Caleb, you’re a good man, but I need to do my part too. But hell yeah.”

“I took the liberty of getting some basics in there to use as a guest room. I knew you were tired of sleeping on a futon.”

“Do I have to sleep in there?”

“I just want you to have a space that’s yours,” I said. “In case my snoring gets too loud or something. But don’t worry about the rent until you’ve satisfied your obligations for your current place.” Stevie nodded. He didn’t want to leave the guys on the hook for his portion. Even though they’d never fully clicked as friends, he wasn’t mad at them or anything.

“I”ll tell them tonight and see how long they need,” he said. “Wish I could come take a look today, but I’m having a hell of a time trying to keep up with the workload.”

“I understand. I’ll just drown my sorrows at the gym or something.”

“Seriously? You look stuffed into that outfit. Did your measurements go up again?”

“Yes,” I said. “ALL my measurements went up.”

“...fuck, really?” he said, sotto voce. I nodded.

“You know what, don’t tell me, don’t show me. Not yet. I really am that slammed and I have a working session with my group in 25 minutes. My big project is due on Monday and I won’t be working anyway — so how about dinner on Monday night after you get off work. I’ll pack a bag and stay at your place, and you can show me what you’ve been cultivating.”

“I don’t know if I can wait until Monday night.”

“Sure you can. Just don’t spend all your time at the gym, okay?”

*****

I didn’t spend *all* my time at the gym, because of course that would mess up my routine. But I did go Saturday morning, and spent the afternoon and evening cleaning and hauling the rest of my replaced stuff to the donation sites and dumpsters. But the hell of it was I was bursting with energy and ended up running a few miles in the evening, just to burn some of it off.

I tried, briefly, to refrain from self gratification, but that only lasted until I got back from dropping off the donations. Four bags of clothes outgrown, sheesh. I absolutely had to get some more clothing on Sunday or I’d be living out of sweats for the foreseeable future. I tried to watch some tv, but ended up doom-scrolling and before I knew it, I was stroking my unflappable no-reason boner and edging for two hours before blowing an impressive load.

Sunday, I woke up horny, having had several erotic dreams involving Stevie. It took firing off two loads before I calmed down enough to get the day rolling, and I was already cranky because my wanking had thrown off my plan for the day. Angry and frustrated masturbation just isn’t as satisfying, you know?

Sports stores and big and tall were going to have to suffice, and I needed at least two presentable outfits plus some new undies. And that meant I needed measurements.

Travis, the young 20-something dude at the big and tall store, seemed very attendant and very interested in measuring me thoroughly. He was cute in a college way — athletic, a bit bulky, and clearly eyeing me up. It felt kind of nice to be ogled that way.

“So you’re, what, six foot? Six-one? Probably 240 or so?”

“That sounds about right? I’ve been putting on some size so I need updated stats.”

“Okay, big guy, let’s get some measurements then…
Chest: 53 in
Shoulder: 59
Upper arm: 19, lower 16
Neck: 18
Waist: 35
Thigh: 29, calf 19”

I didn’t say anything, but every one of those numbers was at least an inch bigger, except the waist. I was *big*.

“That’s going to be a challenge, because there’s a big difference between your chest and waist. You’d need a 52 long, and some tailoring, for a jacket or shirt. Trousers much the same — you have a healthy behind and big thighs.”

He smiled and said “ and you dress left. For what it’s worth, I think you might want to order your underwear online from a specialty store. Our house brand probably won’t handle what you’ve got going on down there. I have a similar problem,so I can recommend some options.”

Shit, I hadn’t really worn much besides sweats and some old baggy jeans that were no longer baggy. How much had I been showing off without realizing?

“Clearly, man, you work out. Are you even pumped right now?”

“No.”

“Might need to add another inch to allow for that…”

He walked me around the store, and showed me a bunch of staples, gradually amassing a handful of shirts and pants to try on. Athletic fit shirts with a bit of stretch seemed to work okay here at least, but even then the ones that should have fit showed some strain. At this point even fitting clothes was becoming a nuisance. No wonder bodybuilders tended to wear workout clothing exclusively.

In the end, I bought just a few items that mostly fit…and one shirt and one pair of chinos the next size up, just in case.

*****

I refilled my fridge, adding in a few things I’d noticed Stevie particularly liked, though he wasn’t picky about food. I’d taken to buying mostly from Costco because protein was expensive and I went through a lot of it. A stray comment while in line for checkout made me aware that I clearly looked like a meathead, literally, with all the protein in there. Stuck in line, people were actually staring, some with a hint of judgement and disgust, but many with blatant envy, and a few with outright lust.

I kind of liked it, but if I kept thinking about it, I wouldn’t be dressing left anymore in these sweats. I glanced down and realized my bulge was verging on the obscene and required immediate repositioning. I cleared my throat and that seemed to shake a few eyes loose, and I quickly readjusted myself. Definitely half-chubby down there. Luckily the lines were moving quickly.

By the time I got loaded and sat in the car, I was actively and unmistakably hard. I couldn’t waste the time — and frankly there wasn’t really room in my increasingly cramped seat — to take care of things. I basically raced home and got the groceries put away, and then settled in for a serious wank. When one didn’t satisfy, I decided to measure my cock again. If everything else had gone up…

Shit, I hadn’t just imagined it.

I was topping out at 11 ¾. And definitely a bit girthier, too. Over an inch bigger than it had been last time. Last WEEK. Almost a foot of thick cock.

Stevie was going to get a very big surprise indeed.

****

Spending Sunday night alone with a cock that big and a raging libido is dangerous. Your brain does some wild stuff to you.

I did *try* the self suck option, because, well, who wouldn’t? It’s definitely something I would attempt if I could. But I wasn’t flexible enough, mostly due to the muscle I’d been accruing. There are worse problems to have.

Then I got the idea to measure my spunk output. They say a teaspoon, of 5ml, is the high end of normal and I was sure I was well beyond that. And I’d already nutted three times that day.

So I got a towel and a measuring cup, and set about finding out. The idea of measuring this somehow got me hot and bothered anyway, so I was raring to go even before I loaded up the porn. I gave myself a good ten minutes of warm up wanking before I really went at it, marveling at the sheer size of my improved dick and hefty balls. And I managed to aim it pretty well into a measuring cup. A very healthy cumsposion later, once I caught my breath, and I estimated maybe twice that.

Ten minutes later I was hard again, and five minutes after that, I added to the measuring cup. Then I figured, fuck it, let’s really go for broke.

Over two and a half hours, I relentlessly wanked myself to erection, shot, and recovered six times, with 10-15 minutes or so on average between each round. Each round I unloaded closer to a tablespoon than a teaspoon. By the end I was glad I’d sprung for good lube, as my dick was a little raw.

But it was finally sated.

Despite the physical euphoria, I had a bit of post nut clarity. That was an absolutely off the charts amount of ball juice, and a negligible, teenage level refractory period. And I’d spunked nine times in one day. Nine!

My only thought was that I was even hornier when Stevie was around.

Fuck.

Wondier if he drinks it for the protein hit

 

[George_Pantelis]

Great story. Looking forward to the rest

 

[Dream Big]

Monday morning meant the gym, and it took twenty minutes to unload enough to soften my cock up to something that wouldn’t get me kicked out of the gym. Even soft I looked borderline obscene.





I was a beast in the weight room; I basically upped my rep weight by 5-10 pounds across the board, and I remained energized the whole time. Got a heck of a pump, then hit the steam room, where one of the regulars kept looking at me a bit weirdly. Only then did I realize my soft cock was spilling out. I blushed and tried to adjust the towel a bit lower, but the damage was done. Between the pump and the ogling, I was starting to get aroused, so I headed for the showers, hoping a bit of cold water and possibly a quick wank would set me right.





That took the edge off, thank goodness.





Stevie was waiting at Cuppa Joes, happy to see me but a bit low energy.





“You okay?”





“I will be once the damned report is turned in. I’ll do that after work, need to drop it off personally.”





“Okay, ext me, I’ll collect you after.”





But it was extra busy at Cuppa Joes, so he couldn’t linger. End of term was always more crowded, so while I ate my coffee and lemon cake, I watched a seemingly endless parade of collegiate hotties filter past. Many of them had the same vibe as Stevie — he was clearly not the only one who’d pulled an all-nighter.





Speaking of, I had a fair bit of work to do, too, so I headed home and got to it. I was still pretty high energy myself, despite having had a two hour workout. My muscles were a little sore from the gym, but not ridiculously so, but I had a heck of a pump and it hadn’t faded. The idea of Stevie’s imminent arrival was a real distraction, but I got through it. I also left a message for the doctor, but didn’t hear back immediately.





Shortly before five, I got a text from Stevie and I wrapped things up so I could go collect him. I did a quick mirror check on the way out and couldn’t believe that was me in the glass — for one thing, I needed a haircut. For another, I was putting some strain on my clothes. I really had the look of a committed athlete.





When I collected my boyfriend, he looked even more exhausted, slumping into the car next to me with a sigh, and leaning over for a kiss that lacked its usual passion.





“Babe?”





“I’m just wiped. It was an all nighter and then I had printer issues — the prof insists on physical copies. I got maybe two hours of sleep and pulled a four hour shift, and then nearly fell asleep waiting for my turn to hand in and discuss the project.”





“Did you eat?”





“I grabbed an egg sandwich at Joes, and maybe five cups of coffee, but this is probably as good as it gets for now. I’m sorry.”





At his place, he confessed he hadn’t finished packing, but we grabbed most of his clothes and a few boxes of assorted stuff. One of his roommates watched from the couch as we carried stuff out. He grunted hello, but never offered to help or even hold a door. Barely made eye contact. Stevie had said he wasn’t awful, just pretty self absorbed. He wouldn’t be missed.





We ordered some takeaway Chinese, and headed home.





*****





Stevie was happy, and clearly impressed, with the changes at my place, and I got a very sweet hug and kiss for my efforts. He seemed to perk up a bit as we ate but I could tell he was struggling to stay awake.





“I’m sorry big guy, it isn’t the company. I know you worked so hard…”





“Stevie, it’s okay. Why don’t you rest a bit and I’ll bring your stuff in,” I offered. He nodded assent. I wasn’t surprised when I came back with a loaded hand truck to find him passed out on the couch. God, even like that he was a sexy boy! He slept through me unloading two carts worth of stuff in his room.





Now, the problem when your boyfriend is pooped and literally passed out, and you’re there with a raging libido, is that you can’t act on it. And so once again, it was me and my dick keeping each other company. I managed two loads without waking Stevie, even though I realized I was pretty loud. With the libido in check, I felt a little grumpy that I had a hot guy right there and couldn’t do anything with him. I knew it was childish, but that’s how I felt at that moment.





But as I sat there watching him, I couldn’t even stay grumpy. You know how little kids can run around all super high energy, and then they just zonk out? My guy gave the same vibe. Well, if I couldn’t engage in some sexy times, at least I could cuddle. Just….not on the couch. So I gingerly pulled off his shoes and carried him to my bedroom, and slowly, quietly undressed him. He didn’t even stir. And just as quietly, I joined him in my bed and pulled him close, breathing in his scent and contenting myself with his presence.





*****





Around 2 in the morning, however, I woke to something punching my arm.





“Babe! Come on, I gotta pee!”





I reluctantly released him, and he dashed unsteadily over to the bathroom.





“Fucking five cups of coffee…” he groused.





“C’mere,” I beckoned, and he snuggled in next to me. As he did so, his hot butt rubbed against my cock, which woke it up. It was like having a puppy, it woke up instantly and wanted to play.





“Oh,” he said. “Is that a hint?”





“Maybe. I know you’re tired.”





“I feel a lot better, actually,” he said. “But can we just cuddle some more?”





“All you want, but eventually I’m going to have to deal with this thing you did to me…”





He rolled over, and reached down to find my member.





“Damn, Caleb,” he said.





“You woke it up,” I said.





“What have you been feeding this thing? Shit, did you get bigger again?”





“Kinda,” I said. “I wanted to surprise you, but yeah, I grew a bit more this week.”





He was quiet for a moment, his hand warm around my cock, as he felt the size of it. “Fuck, how big are you now?”





“Eleven,” I replied, “and a bit.”





“Seriously?”





“Yeah,” I said, sheepishly. “And before you ask, I am waiting to hear back from the doctor.”





“I can’t believe I’ve got a statistical anomaly myself, and you blow that right out of the water. I think you’ve given me a size fetish.”





“That’s not all I want to give you,” I chuckled, pulling him against me for a kiss.





“I really want to test this baby out, but I honestly need a few more hours,” he said. “And a lot of lube.”





*****





Morning came, and I woke up to my hot barista feeling me up with a dopey grin on his face.





“Good morning to you too,” I said, pulling him close for a big kiss.





“Mm. You woke me up, you know,” he said. “But there was no way I was going to attempt anything with that big,” and he squeezed my cock under the covers for emphasis, “big cock without a bit of prep.”





I grinned and pulled him even closer. “There’s lube in the nightstand.”





“Babe, I don’t think that’s going to be enough. Go pee, and when you’re done I will make sure the effects of yesterday’s coffee binge don’t turn a wonderful experience into weird foreign porn. I’m not into scat.”





“Me neither,” I chuckled, and tried to extract myself from the bed. Shit, I had a raging boner.





“Wow,” he said. “Shit, man, LOOK at you.”





I looked down and realized my pecs were blocking part of my view, but it didn’t matter because my dick was still clearly visible. It extended pretty far and was firmly ratcheting its way upward.





“Oh,” I said.





“Once you figure out if you can piss with that iron girder, maybe we should measure you,” he said thoughtfully.





“Do you really have a size fetish?”





“Maybe now,” he said. “No, it’s just that my boyfriend is sporting the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, and I’m intrigued.”





He wasn’t wrong. After some awkward attempts to angle mysely, I finally stepped into the shower and ran some lukewarm water. The need to pee was urgent, so I had few options — at least in the shower I wouldn’t have to clean up the floor. The water didn’t shock me back to flaccid mode, but it helped wash away the fountain I aimed at the wall. I figured I would scrub up while I was in there, even though I expected to get pretty messy again soon.





As soon as I was out of the shower, Stevie was at the doorway, looking annoyed.





“I was hoping to shower together afterwards, but whatever. Now scoot, I need to go.”





He hustled me out and I stood there stupidly wondering how I’d been evicted from my own bathroom.





But of course pretty much nobody wants their boyfriend to watch them take a shit, unless that’s their kink. I decided to I was too hungry to dive right into sex, so I started a pot of coffee and started making eggs and toast. I’d taken to having a protein shake and some loaded scrambled eggs more or less every day, so it was easy to just make a big batch of it every few days.





“You look so domestic,” Stevie said, sidling up behind me.





“Yeah yeah. Pour yourself some coffee or juice or whatever. I made a pile of eggs with sausage and spinach.”





“Sounds great,” he said. “Do we, uh, have time for fun?”





“Maybe,” I said. “But I have a meeting in 45 minutes. It won’t take long, but I do have to check in after my week off.”





“I’ll eat fast,” he said.”and I know you get OCD about it but I will wash up in here while you’re working. Gives us a little more time, right?”





We plowed through breakfast pretty quickly, and by that point my raging boner had restarted. We finished about the same time, and I threw him over my shoulder like some kind of caveman. He giggled like a kid at that; Stevie wasn’t small and I had no trouble manhandling him.





“Wait wait!” He said as I tossed him onto the bed. “I want to know what I’m getting myself into.





“We’re on the clock, don’t forget,” I teased.





“Gimme,” he chuckled, climbing back on top, having fished out the tape.





But we were both surprised to see the number it stretched out to.





“Jesus,” he whispered.”I may have bitten off more than I can chew.”





I’d passed the twelve-inch mark. By almost half an inch,





*****

 

[ncvalmont]

Hell yeah!! Keep going. Love it!

 

[ncvalmont]

Looking forward to the next part.

 

[Dream Big]

Still in progress.

 

[Dream Big]

*****


Finding out the new normal was …well, huge… gave us pause.

“Babe, that’s…that’s a lot. I’m more than happy to see what we can do, but I think first I need to do a little prep, and you should probably do your meeting.”

“Awww,” I whined.

“Caleb, no offense, but the last time your dick was in my ass, there was a lot less of it. Like, 2 inches, at least, and that’s a concern. So while you go talk with nerds about spreadsheets, or whatever, I’m going to see if I can find some poppers or cube oil or something else to help make that big boy fit.”

Yeah, I pouted and whined a bit, but mostly in jest. I didn’t want to hurt him. So I settled for a quick wank while he got ready, so I was nice and focused for my meeting. It was a camera optional call, which was just as well since I wasn’t eager to derail the meeting with questions about my physique. Stevie gave me a quick smooch and whispered to text him anything I needed him to pick up at Walgreens — I showed him the box of the biggest size condoms i had found, but I suspected they might be a squeeze. (People may think they’re big, but in reality, there weren’t many folks with an actual foot long dong out there.)

About 90 minutes later, Stevie was back and the accounting gods were sated. There were a bunch of updates to do on the work laptop, so I kicked them off and set the Teams chat to “busy, back later”.


“Guy at the sex shop suggested some cbd suppositories and lube,” Stevie said. “Takes a bit to kick in, though.”

“Well, take one!”

“Already did. Should kick in in maybe 15-20 minutes.”

15 minutes later, we were naked, making out, and groping each other in my bed. The condoms I’d bought were, in fact, a tight fit. They’d been okay a few inches ago, but I’d gotten girthier as well as longer. We spent a while opening him up, and the cbd stuff seemed to help a lot, but I’ve never been a big fan of pot smell. Still, we were horny and curious and really into each other, so I powered past it and made a mental note to find better options, as I massaged his pucker open.

My improved dick was a handful (at least two, in fact), but Stevie was a champ, and before too long I was sliding into his ass. He felt amazing on my dick, but only about 9-10 inches of it fit.

“Jesus wept, that’s a huge cock,” he gasped. “You’re rearranging my insides!”

“Should I stop?” I panted.

“God, no, but give me a minute to adjust….”

I held him close as his ass adjusted to my fuckstick…yeah, when it’s that big, “dick” doesn’t seem adequate, does it? Cruder terms feel more apropos. Anyway, a moment or two later and he nodded and pushed back again.

“Fuuuuck.” He said. “You get any bigger and I may be in real trouble.”

“Then I better fuck you good now,” I said, feeling more aggressive than I could recall. I needed to core him out, make him mine, or so some primal part of me insisted.

“Do it!” He gasped, and I began to rail him in earnest. I had to remind myself that he was breakable. But he was also mine, and I fucked him hard and deep. He came twice before I finally let loose, and I felt like a feral beast when I came.

*****

“I can’t believe you fucking roared,” he chuckled later, as we lay in bed enjoying a post coital cuddle.

“Me neither,” I said, nuzzling him. He was my little spoon.

“But babe, you are seeing your doctor again, right?”

“I feel pretty fine,” I said. “Plenty healthy.”

“You also grew your dick a few sizes and that is not something that happens,” he said. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. “And I don’t want me to get hurt, either, you know?”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Not on purpose, but…” he burrowed back into me, “you are strong as fuck, and your dick is gunning for at least a state record. I bet your hormones are out of whack.”

He was right, of course, and I knew it. I’d have to call my program doc again.

*****

His ass was too sore just yet for another round, so instead we settled for a bit of mutual handjob fun. He was enraptured by my big cock, and comparing our dicks — his was a hefty 8.5, and mine was half again as long and proportionally as girthy. Between us we had nearly two feet of cock.

Eventually, though, we had to get moving again. Lunch was first, and then I called my doctor while he began setting up his stuff properly. I smiled, because after all this time I had my boyfriend living with me and it felt pretty nice.

“Caleb, can you repeat that?”

“My penis is now 12 and a half inches long. I’ve added eight pounds since I saw you less than a week ago. My boyfriend is worried and now I kind of am, too.”

“Understandable. At least there’s some good news — your blood work looks pretty good, but you are, as I suspected, effectively hitting a second puberty. It’s a very rare situation, but quite exciting, don’t you think?”

“What the heck did you do to me?”

“We went over this. A proprietary cocktail of hormones. Nothing weird or illegal, and no steroids,” he said. “The goal was to replicate the state of receptivity people have in their pubescence. It worked in your case — clearly. But I’m not exactly breaking confidence to tell you you’re the only one who reacted so well.”

“A little too well, maybe.”

“Yeah… Still not sure how. You’re an outlier and the folks who sponsored this study really want to run some more genetic tests on you to figure out why. Meanwhile, I’d advise you to skip the gym for a few days to see if things slow down a bit. Less testosterone might help.”

“Didn’t they get enough blood and jizz the other day?”

“Look, if we are going to get a handle on this, that’s how we do it. If you’re concerned, bring your boyfriend in too. For all we know, he may be a factor.”

I did want to know. I agreed to come in the next day anyway. If I had to disrupt my routine, at least Stevie would be there, and he was worth the disruption.


*****

 

[Dream Big]

“Sure, I’m game,” Stevie said. “Maybe I can get some of your super serum. Then I could keep up with you.”

I had already messaged work and told them I’d come down with something, and Doctor Morris was able to squeeze me in around 4. And that meant there was time for another round of fun. But while Stevie was game, it was obvious that he wasn’t quite recovered, so we kept things a bit more …demure. I was getting really worried I’d hurt him, based on how he winced. The boy had a terrible poker face.

“You should probably mention how much you come,” he said. “Unless you were always so productive.”

“Nope, that’s new too,” I said, but of course anyone who saw my bait and tackle wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

A few hours later, we were signed in and shown immediately to Dr Morris’ office, where he greeted us enthusiastically.

“You sure weren’t kidding,” the doctor said as he took measurements. “Now, I want to get some data before and after,” he said, “by which I mean we will draw some blood, then collect some semen, and then draw again so we can see if the hormone levels change. And then, if it’s okay, I want to hook you up and do some strength and stamina checks like when we got you started.”

Then he turned to Stevie. “You too, for the bloodwork, if you’re okay with it. Might help us figure out whether there’s any sort of catalyst. There’s some paperwork on the tablet, if you don’t mind…”

There were enough measurements to make my OCD very happy, and it was immediately obvious that I’d continued to improve on those fronts. Which made getting one specific measurement pretty difficult.

“He’s been like that all day,” Stevie said. “With brief periods of not being quite as much so.”

“Really.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Well, I guess we will have to settle for erect first,” Morris replied.

I blushed.

“I’m not really hard yet,” I said. “This is maybe half way.”

“Nine and a half is only…okay, I guess you weren’t exaggerating.”

It took very little coaxing to complete the process.

“I really, really thought you were exaggerating, but the numbers speak for themselves. 32.15 centimeters. A bit over 12 and a half inches. Assuming you measured accurately earlier, you appear to be slowly growing.”

He also looked over the other measurements. “You’ve also grown almost two inches from when you first came in, and I can see you’ve been hitting the gym every day.”

“I haven’t, though. Four times a week, with some running or calisthenics on my off days.”

“Remarkable. You’ve added nearly forty pounds of muscle, my friend. I’d be willing to bet your endocrine system looks a good twenty years younger, if your face and skin are anything to go by.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Now for the fun part. I will take these to my assistant and get started on analyzing this batch. Just let me know when you’re finished, like right when you’re finished, so I can get some more samples.”

Stevie and I stared at each other after the door shut, and he grinned wickedly as I shucked the stupid gown.

“Fuck you’re sexy. But I really do need to rest my ass. You cored me out pretty thoroughly. Not that I’m complaining, just acknowledging that at least one of us has some limits.” And then he reached over and grabbed me roughly by my cock. “But since you apparently don’t, I’m going to have some fun. Hand me those sample cups….”

*****

When Dr Morris rejoined us we had cleaned up a bit, but it was very obvious what we’d been up to for the last half hour.

“That is..quite a sample.”

“Sorry, I tried to get more, but aim isn’t easy. That thing has a kind of its own,” Stevie said saucily.

Morris peered at the sample cup. There was a lot there. “There was more?”

“I think we managed to clean the rest up,” I said defensively, glancing at the medical waste bin.

“Noted,” Morris said. Then he pulled another couple tubes of blood from each of us and sent his assistant off to run the lab work.

“I know you’ve been here over an hour, but you may want to stick around. Or maybe come back after dinner? I’ll be here for a while.”

Stevie and I opted to eat and Morris gave us his personal cell. Whoever finished first would text the other.

“You know,” Stevie said as we tucked into some no nonsense steak and salad a few blocks away, “when I started flirting with you, I didn’t expect anything to come of it.”

“I couldn’t figure out why a hot young guy like you would even be interested in someone old enough to be his dad.”

“Okay, first of all, you’ve only got me beat by twelve years, old man. And second of all, you don’t even look as old as I do right now.”

“Please.”

“I’ll prove it,” he said, beckoning for the waitress. “Excuse me, my friend and I need you to settle a bet.”

“Okay…”

“How old do you think we are?”

She peered at us quizzically.

“Go on.”

“I wanna say 25?”

“I’m 26,” Stevie said.

“Okay, but he isn’t,” she said, pointing at me.

“No?”

“He’s probably a little young. 24?”

“I’m 38,” I said, stunned.

“No way. Not with that baby face. I had you pegged as a college jock!”

*****

Stevie tried not to be insufferable but it was no use. And it got worse when we got back to the doctor’s office.

“Your trainer had it right. Biologically, most of you is consistent with a 19 or 20 year old, experiencing an extended and remarkable period of growth.”

“We should have tipped that waitress more.”

“This is very exciting,” Morris said. “There’s more, too. We’ve got a bunch more tests to run, but I think my instinct about Stevie being a factor was correct.”

“Really?” Stevie seemed happy at that idea.

“Well, possibly not specifically you, but the physical reaction you compel in Caleb. We don’t really know much about human pheromones, but you two have a lot of complementary markers, and it’s obvious you’re physically compatible. But I bet when the other la work is done, you’ll find complementary genetics, too.”

“Aww,” Stevie said, “you really do complete me.”

“Corny. Remind me which of us is the old one again.”

“Ideally, we would isolate you both and see if that has any effect, Dr Morris said, almost to himself. “But you live together, you said?”

“Yes,” I said firmly.

“Well, at very least, document everything you can for the next few days. I think, for the moment, you should just follow your instincts, and see what happens.”

“Lots of sex, I expect,” I said.

“That’s fine, just document it. If you can, see if you can skip a whole day and note how you feel, whether it’s different. Measure everything. I’ll provide you some tools and collection equipment. And I will call you back when I know more, and you call me if anything starts worrying you. Believe me, if either of you were in danger, I would let you know and get you into care. But you’re ridiculously healthy, both of you, though I’d recommend some vitamin d for Stevie.”

“He’ll be getting as much of that as I can—“

“I meant he needs some sun, or at least a supplement. Sheesh.”

Stevie was blushing. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Of course?”

“Can you recommend anything that would make it easier for me to, um,” he said.

“Oh! Oh, yes, actually. I’ll text you some resources, but I advise spending a fair amount of time relaxing, and some good lube. Practice will help. But I suppose keeping up with him may be a challenge, if he keeps growing.”

*****

 

[Permabulger]

My new fav story on here. Keep em cumming

 

[ncvalmont]

Loving it. Great job.

 

[Dream Big]

“Guess your doctor is gay, too,” Stevie said as we got into the car. “Or at least very well informed.”





“You’re taking this all rather well,” I said.

“Well, maybe with sufficient lube…”

“Stevie,” I said, “you don’t find all this a little freaky?”

“You were already hot, and you’re getting more incredible every day, and I love you,” he said. “In case I hadn’t made that clear. I’m into you, and I’m not going anywhere unless you suddenly kick me out, which would make me sad. Very sad.”

He leaned over and kissed me.

“Now let’s go home. But we should probably swing by Love Shack on the way home. I have a list.”

“A list, huh,” I smiled. “You always know what to say to turn me on.”

“But he also said something interesting, did you notice?”

I shook my head.

“He said ‘if he keeps growing’,” Stevie said. “So that’s possible. Maybe even likely.”

That was daunting. My soft dick was already bigger than porn stars are when they’re hard.


******

The rest of the week was lovely, honestly, we were figuring out our new routines together, and though he continued to tease me about my adherence to my schedule, he made it clear he found it endearing rather than annoying. For my part, I was happy to swallow my minor discomfort as we figured it out, because I was just as besotted with him as he was with me. Living together was going pretty well.

So was the sex, though he really had pushed his limits with me at first and needed some recovery time. We watched some very instructional videos and read some blogs, and began to work on the issue. I insisted that we both do it, because his cock was substantial too. Though apparently my treatment had given me a boost there, and I recovered much more quickly than he had.

I continued to grow, slowly, all week. Not much, but enough to notice. And my trainer was quick to notice my improvement there, as well.

“This is annoying and unfair. Can you at least point me to whatever study you’re in?”

I shrugged and told her the NDA was pretty gnarly. “As soon as I can, I will. I can give you the doctor's office info. But I can assure you, if you tested me for steroids or hgh or something, you won’t find anything, and the doc can confirm it for you. That has to be enough for now.”

She seemed willing to accept that, but she also decided to put me through the most punishing routines she could think of for our next few sessions. All of which meant I hit new personal bests across the board.

I’d been preoccupied with my dick and libido and Stevie and all that,but I had to concede, I’d been in beast mode for some time and it showed. And I’d been actively tuning out the looks and attention I’d been getting. After all, I only really had eyes for my hot barista. But that Friday some of the regulars were definitely eyeing me up. In retrospect I should have paid more attention.

*****

By this point I had put on almost 45 pounds of muscle, which was several inches on all my major muscle groups, and my height had crept up to 6’1. That’s a lot for anyone, much less a guy pushing 40, who’d been overweight half a year ago. There was no hiding it. If I didn’t work from home, it would have been worse, but even on Teams people had commented on my hulking out.

What they didn’t know, thank goodness, was that the genital situation had danced into the land of truly ridiculous. I had put on another half inch just this week. Not that my boyfriend was complaining — if anything, he was leaning into his newfound ability to take me as a matter of pride. It was only fair; he’d worked pretty diligently to get used to my size. Still, I was pretty careful with him, just the same.

But when Saturday rolled around, and I went to the gym, things changed.

*****

I’d finished my sets —I pushed pretty hard and worked up a heck of a sweat, and ducked into the sauna to relax my sore muscles. As I entered, one of the bigger guys eyed me up with barely disguised annoyance and envy. He ducked out as soon as I sat down, but almost immediately came back with two other big guys. They were the sort of big that typically moved to the meathead gym down the street — power lifters and body builders, averaging 300 pounds each. They entered the sauna and took position on either side of me, while the ring leader blocked the door.

“Something you want, guys?” I said, sensing the threat.

“What are you on, man?”

“I’m not on anything,” I said.

“No fucking way is that natural,” the blond sidekick said. “We fucking want in.”

I stood up, deliberately letting my towel drop. Their eyes couldn’t help but fix on my prodigious meat.

“I’m not taking any gear,” I said, “as you can clearly see. No telltale shrinkage.”

“Hgh, then.” The others were looking a bit askance but this guy, their little ringleader, pressed on.

I sighed. “We are done here,” I said.

“You must be bad at math,” he replied. “You are outnumbered.”

“Really? So you think the best way to get a bigger, more muscular, guy to give you what you want is to threaten him?”

He smirked. “Boys?” His two lackeys stepped over and grabbed at my arms.

Each of those boys was at most 200 pounds, but more likely about 170-180. All of it muscle, of course, but that didn’t matter. And they were at best 5’9. I had several inches on them.

So I raised my arms up and up until my assailants were no longer touching the ground. With a smirk, I slammed my arms together, banging the two of them into each other. They let go and fell rather stupidly to the floor. Now I won’t lie and say it was easy, but it had the desired effect, and I downplayed the amount of effort it took.

“Get out,” I said. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

The two minions couldn’t leave fast enough, but the ringleader shot me a venous glare as he backed away, then his eyes darted down to my dick, which had become rather hard all of a sudden. Apparently showing off like that had triggered a response.

“Dammit,” I said, “now I need to deal with that before I head out.”

 

[laptoper]

Such an enjoyable story. Thanks so much!

 

[Dream Big]

I complained about Dave — the leader of the little group of assholes — to my trainer. And she must have raised the issue because a few gym days passed and I didn’t spot any of them. I also told her why they’d tried to pin me down.

“Wish I could say I was surprised. You remember the really big dude, Leo?”

Of course I remembered. He was the one who referred me. But I hadn’t seen him in months.

“Well he ended up moving away a while ago, but he complained about Dave and his little crew , too, not long before. I liked Leo, and these assholes were probably part of why he left. I’d bet there are others as well. No loss from my perspective, to see them go. We are trying to run a nice place here, y’know?”

I debated about whether to say anything to Stevie, but by the time I got to Cuppa Joes, I’d decided not to keep any secrets. Besides, he might be at risk.

That said, I downplayed how serious it was, because I didn’t want him to worry over much.

“But what if they try something again? Or start tailing you or something?” Stevie pleaded.

“Then I will deal with it,” I said, with a confidence I almost felt.

*****

“Promising results. Can you both come in this Wednesday?” Asked the text message from Dr Morris.

We could, and weds after the gym and the wild berry scone, I collected Stevie, and we drove over to the study’s offices.

“Gentlemen,” Dr Morris said, “let me ask you a very brief question that will, I think, help contextualize what we now think is happening. Here’s a simple question, which I’ll have you separate, answer, and then hand back to me without saying anything.” So he did.

In the room next door, I opened the envelope and a card inside read “Are you in love with him? If so, when did you know?”

I chuckled. Silly. We were both back in his office in a moment.

He opened the two cards and grinned. “Here,” he said, handing each the others card.

They both read: “Yes. Immediately.”

“Okay, that’s sweet and all,” I said. “But what does it mean?”

“It means that we will have to confirm some stuff with more rigorous testing, but I’m satisfied. Boys, you are genetically complementary, and more importantly, you are in love with each other. And if I’m right about this, it is your strong compatibility, your receptiveness to each other, that is triggering this reaction.”

We glanced at each other.

“Corny,” I chuckled.

“I’m deadly serious. During puberty, as our secondary characteristics kick in, they’re all about functionality in terms of producing offspring. Biology demands that, right? So what if you’re both firmly gay and thus not interested in knocking someone up?”

We shook our heads slowly, not following quite yet.

“You, Caleb, are basically pubescent, and your body is responding to those biological urges, readying you for a compatible mate. And here he is, tailor made for you, and unwittingly sending out a million signals about what he finds desirable. Your secondary characteristics are responding to that template. But you are stuck in that state where your body is revving things up, which kicks your own signals into overdrive. Which overstimulates Stevie, because you’re just continuing to fulfill his fantasy…and so forth.”

“Wait, so he’s getting hotter day by day, because his body is trying to make him perfect for me?” Stevie said, piecing it together.

“Kind of. I think it’s picked up on your compatibility and views you as an ideal mate, and is trying to ensure successful offspring.”

“Good luck with that,” Stevie chuckled.

“It is because of the cocktail that kickstarted that pubescent state. So the compound works, but it worked extra well because you happened to be falling for each other at exactly the right moment.”

“Question,” I said. “How do we make it stop?”

“In theory, once Stevie’s body signals properly, the process should stop. Though we may have to fake it.”

“How would you do that?”

“Chemically — but it’s tricky. We don’t have a functional way to decode those signals. Pretty sure we will figure it out eventually. In a perfect world you’d have a twin sister who was pregnant….”

“I have a cousin who is,” I said.

“How close?”

“Not very. My mother’s older sister’s kid. She is about two or three years younger but we don’t stay in touch much. Not too tight with many of my family, really.”

“How about this, then. Let’s see if separating you boys for a week makes any difference.”

“How? We live together.”

“Simple. Put one of you up in a hotel for a week, no physical contact.”

We talked it over. Neither of us really wanted that, but we did want to know what was happening. With the semester break, it was a decent time for Stevie to break away, and he could pull different hours at Cuppa Joes without too much problem. Between my working from home and my love of routine, it would be tougher for me to schedule this.

We planned opposing times for checking in so we wouldn’t cross paths, and so Morris could keep tabs on our numbers.

*****

Stevie packed a bag and headed off to the hotel the next morning.

It took almost no time for the regret to set in. We texted and FaceTimed way too much, but not enough to scratch the itch. And we sounded like annoying lovestruck teens mooning over each other. I guess we probably sounded like that already.

The grumpy goth girl at Cuppa Joes, however, came over to me the second time I stopped by without Stevie there.

“Hey. Did you guys break up or something?”

Ah, refreshingly blunt as always.

“No. We are just doing a study, so we are avoiding contact for a few days. It will be over soon.”

“Good. Because he’s miserable,” she said. “And we all like him. If you screwed him over, we might poison your muffin or something.”

“Noted,” I said, reappraising my next sip of coffee.

Instead of Stevie, I nibbled on my muffin and coffee and then headed to Morris’s office for my usual poking and prodding.

“Miniscule growth,” Morris said. I hung around for him to finish the analysis. “Not much to report this session. No, wait,” he said. “See this? That’s your baseline from the other day, these are your initial numbers, and here’s today. Your hormone levels definitely dropped, though they’re still quite high. Let’s see how they look in two days.”

The next session, though, it was clear from Dr Morris’s excited chatter that he was onto something. My gym time was a dull routine, and for the first time in months, I didn’t make any tangible progress. And sure enough, the hormones I’d been bathing in were dialed quite far back.

Stevie reported similar results — we missed each other, and in particular we missed the physical proximity. Neither of us slept as well apart as we had been together.

As the week wore on, I got grumpier and moodier, and was angrily wanking 3-4 times a day to keep the edge off. But it wasn’t satisfying, and we had been trying to keep our interactions to just texts, so we didn’t even do video chats or sexting. It shocked me how much I missed him. And he said much the same.

By Friday, I was eager to reconnect. Desperate, even. But Morris wanted controlled circumstances and measurements.

*****

Saturday after gym (and empty sad coffee shop calories), I was hooked up to a ton of monitors and sitting alone in an exam room while Dr Morris sat in the next room chatting via intercom.

“Remarkable,” he said, as several background beeps changed pitch. “He’s not even in the room yet, and you’re responding.”

He wasn’t wrong. I knew Stevie was nearby, somehow.

“We are almost done hooking him up,” an assistant said.

“Great. Go on in as soon as you’re ready,” Morris said.

The door opened, and there was Stevie, looking like usual, but his smile told me everything would be okay. I thudded over to meet him, glad of the length of the monitoring cables. I could hear the machines going haywire nearby.

We were instantly hugging, and kissing, like it had been months rather than just six days. Somehow we separated before they had to turn the hose on us, but held hands.

*****

Cue a lot of science and visuals and a hyper fixated mad scientist.

“We are going to be analyzing this data for a while. But I think my working theory is more or less correct. Those high tech sniffers, and all the other stuff, backs up the hunch so far. It’s just a matter of specifics.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“That depends. It’ll take more than a week apart to put the proper dampers on your little pubescent rerun. But we have the foundation of a way to slow, and hopefully stop, the process. Which I suspect you will eventually be very much asking for.”

“Why? Other than some logistic concerns, why would we not want Caleb to keep getting sexier?”

“You realize he isn’t just going through a makeover here. We’ve been pretty lucky so far in that most of the results have been fairly cosmetic and healthy,” Dr Morris replied.

“He’s not just getting in fantastic shape; he’s growing like a teenager. He is getting remade in prep for a sexual moment that will never come. He’s an almost-40-year-old in a much younger body. He’s hormonally supercharged. We are in uncharted territory. I know you’re not super technical, but it isn’t particularly healthy to stay in a pubescent adolescent state for so long. We don’t know the long term effects on your endocrine or immune systems, or whether things like skin elasticity or apparently re-opened growth plates will come back to bite you. And there’s also a concern about your brain chemistry, because adolescents literally exist in a stew of mind-altering chemicals.”

Stevie looked chastened.

“Look, this is incredibly exciting and we are learning….sooo much right now. I’m not going to lie, the higher-ups are hoping to replicate this. But we need to tread cautiously and keep an eye on things. No point in all this if you get hurt, right?”

*****

 

[Dream Big]

Well, that poured water on the fire. At least for a bit.

We tried.

Made it through two whole days without fucking. Barely even cuddled.

But it couldn’t last. For one thing, I was ridiculously horny.

If we thought I’d had a supercharged libido before, it was nothing compared to what began during those two days.

When we first got home, we agreed not to have sex. But I was already boned beyond belief.

So I excused myself, and began beating my meat in the bedroom. I came almost immediately but it barely took the edge off. By the time I finally exhausted myself, I’d cum four times — each of them a ridiculously productive affair that was every bit as much as I’d managed at the doctor’s office. By the time I’d cleaned up, I found Stevie passed out on the couch. And damned if I didn’t get hard again.

*****

Several days passed, and each brought a new level of horniness. I felt practically feral, prowling around the house and sniffing after Stevie, who’d been clearly struggling with his own needs.

In an effort to mitigate my frustration, I threw myself into work, and into working out, to the extent I could. But my distraction made focus on my day job difficult, and I decided I would need to take some time off the following week. Honestly if this continued, a leave of absence might be a better choice.

But in the gym, I was scaring even myself. In three sessions, I increased all my weights by at least twenty pounds, for reps. I also added an hour of cardio each day. And my body responded by putting on another seven pounds of muscle.

And with all that happening, I was teeming with testosterone, and each day I was cumming at least six times.

For his part, Stevie looked haunted. He was taking care of his needs on his own — though considerably less often. But his gaze had a degree of hunger to it that I had only seen from him in the throes of passion. His self control was impressive. But three days in, he insisted on opening the windows and airing the place out. He’d been aggressively cleaning, too.

“I can’t help it. I can smell your musk all the time, and it’s driving me crazy,” he said. I could smell it, and him, too. Even with the windows open, even deploying baking soda and activated charcoal, all of our efforts barely took the edge off. I washed my sheets every day.

By Friday we just couldn’t take it anymore.

I came back from an epic gym session, having pounded out two loads in the showers. I could feel the gazes of the other gym goers as I stomped heavily around, throwing iron until I could barely move. It felt like I filled the steam room and then the shower with my presence. My clothing felt especially tight. (I’d later find out I’d grown another inch in height.).

I threw open the door, tossed my bag on the floor, and kicked my shoes off. Stevie emerged from the kitchen, a curious expression on his face. “Babe? I’ve got a tray of chicken in the oven but it’ll be an hour before it’s ready…”

His expression changed when he saw me. I literally ripped my shirt off. “I don’t want chicken right now.”

I practically pounced on him, kissing him like I was devouring a meal. I grabbed him in one arm and yanked his sweatpants off with the other.

“Bedroom,” I panted.

“Fuck yes,” he said, reaching for my waistband.

*****

We were unhinged.

By any standard, we were pent up, but he was almost as desperate as I was. Almost.

We lucked out when the oven when the oven timer buzzed, because he’d just blown a pretty impressive load, and we needed to hydrate anyway. Laughing, but still inflamed with lust, we hurried through dinner without even cleaning up, our bites of chicken punctuated with sloppy kisses and steamy looks.

And then, back to the bedroom, where we fucked our way through another three hours before passing out for a couple hours. When I woke, I felt energized, but Stevie was adorably snoring away when I got up to pee. I left him there, and ate the rest of the cold chicken alone in the kitchen.

I looked at my arm as I ate; it was still swollen, pumped from my workout and from our acrobatic lovemaking.

Fuck, I’d just eaten three chicken breasts and a cup of steamed broccoli as a midnight snack, and I felt like I could eat more. I also felt like I could fuck more. Already my cock was rising. Was I getting off purely on having been so intensely physical?

I prowled back to the bedroom; it reeked of sex, and those sheets probably ought to be sterilized tomorrow. Stevie was dead to the world, with a sheet draped artlessly over him, and I couldn’t bring myself to wake him, not just for more sex. He was exhausted.

I should be exhausted.

But my stamina was that of a teen in his prime, now. Maybe I could shoot another load and then pass out.

I needed to release, and I gripped my cock to grant it. I felt huge. More than enough cock for both hands and room to slide. I leaked pre like a faucet, and it slicked my tool delightfully. Even with my new strength, my cock felt like velvet covered steel. I came with a roar and fired off at least nine volleys of hot jizz that splattered onto the sheets.

Stevie, bless him, didn’t budge until I crawled in next to him. Finally, I could sleep.

*****

Morning came all too soon. I hadn’t heard Stevie extract himself but he was in the bathroom when I finally opened my eyes. My body ached a bit as I pulled myself from the cum-encrusted sheets. I stood and stretched, and my stomach growled as Stevie exited the bathroom. He smiled and came over to hug me.

“God damn, you’re huge,” he said. “My big sexy baby.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I threatened. “Seriously.”

“Babe, I love you, but I’m not starting anything. I need a break. And breakfast.” He frowned as he picked up his ruined underwear. “I can’t believe you ripped these off me like that.”

*****

We had arranged to visit the clinic again, and we were there by 10. Apparently Dr Morris and his team had been working pretty much round the clock since our last visit.

“You’re bigger, aren’t you,” he said. “Let’s measure you.”

“We, uh, didn’t make it the whole week,” I confessed. “Last night was kind of wild.”

“So I gather,” he replied. I’d grown again, including almost an inch in height and pretty much everywhere else as well. I was up nine pounds, though I suggested that two pounds was probably just breakfast.

“Well, the rate of growth seems to have spiked, and just looking at your face, I see you’ve lost some of your laugh lines,” he observed.

My cock had continued to grow, too, and I was now almost fourteen inches, hard. Which was often.

“How are you holding up,” Morris asked Stevie.

“I was almost as desperate as he was last night,” he confessed. “It was almost physically painful to be near each other but, you know, not do anything. And my libido has been crazy, just not as crazy as his.”

“There does appear to be a feedback loop, as we discussed. But I think we may be close to putting the brakes on your hormonal surge.”

“Really?”

“Yes, if you’re up for it. I have to emphasize it’s purely experimental. But the idea is that we try to trick both your pheromones into changing what they’re signalling. Between that and a long proven libido reducing drug, we should be able to both grant immediate relief and push back against that feedback loop.”

“What kind of signal would we be sending?” Stevie seemed suspicious.

“We *think* you’re both signalling sexual interest and availability. Because you’re gay, you’re not sending the signals that, say, a pregnant woman might send to say that, well, you’re not available. So one thought is we’d try to blend in some chemical markers that we’d find in a pregnant human, so that the mating instinct is toned down. Another option would be to try to send those signals you release when you’ve just copulated – for want of a better word, we’re going to try to have you signal that you’ve had enough and aren’t interested.”

“And what happens to us? Won’t it fuck up our hormones?”

“It shouldn’t. But it will hopefully decrease your sex drives to something more manageable, and finally allow Caleb’s body to stop trying to optimize him for reproduction.” Dr Morris said. “Because really, that’s what’s happening. You’re being optimized to spread your genetic material, and your body’s basically constantly shouting about how virile you are. And then Stevie’s body responds with ‘I want some of that’, even though he’s not going to have your babies. So we’d be giving both of you this pheromonal hormonal tweak, but we’re also going to try to re-regulate Caleb’s hormone by adding some stuff to tell his body puberty’s done.”

“Any risks?”

“We’re thinking for both of you, likely a patch with hormonal adjustments, and some supplements. The specific mix would be a bit of trial and error. Obviously some of those would be artificial, or borrowed from donors. Generally those pregnancy hormones stimulate bonding between partners. The main risk is actually one of the goals, which is reduced libido. But yeah, there are risks of decreased interest in each other, as well as emotional states being pretty fluid. For Caleb there’s also the very deliberate attempt to signal the end of puberty with a targeted chemical trigger on the hypothalamus.”

*****

We decided to give it a try. The patches were prepared and we both got similar blends – hopefully signalling that we weren’t really available for sex, without diminishing our feelings for each other. And I got the puberty blocker.

It took a couple of days before we noticed much, and during that time, we were going at it like rabbits. If anything, the main effect seemed to be a preference for extended cuddling and touching. If we were in physical contact, it was easier for me to manage the urge to just fucking TAKE Stevie and ravish him.

But by the end of the week, it was clear that the puberty blocker wasn’t doing much.

“Another half inch taller, another five pounds,” Dr Morris muttered.

“And he’s gotten bigger down below too,” Stevie said.

“Yes, yes,” Morris said. “At 37 cm, you’re bigger than the record holder. 14.5 inches.”

“We’ll try to up the dose of the blockers.”


By this point, I was 6’4”. I weighed almost 290 pounds, mostly solid muscle and about 11% body fat. I was benching 260 for reps but could manage a max of 500 pounds. And I wasn’t really burning that hard to be competitive; this made Sue a little cross with me but I held my ground. I was just trying to gradually push myself harder and harder. Besides, like I said, the NDA was pretty fearsome. I didn’t want to put any of this at risk, because we were trying to get things under control. I looked lean enough but quite muscular – like someone who was into aesthetic bodybuilding.

Stevie, for his part, was back in classes for the semester, but was taking two of them online anyway. Some of his classes were online, though, so he had predictable hours, and between the coursework and his hours at the coffee shop, he was mostly out of the house during my typical working hours.

The puberty blockers seemed to be slowing things down a bit on the growth front, but my libido was still kind of extreme. I just didn’t feel like a feral beast quite so much now, and had better self control. That said, I typically had sex every single morning and every single evening with Stevie (with the occasional day when he was too wiped for much); I also solo-sessioned at least once or twice during the day. And I typically had to rub one out in the gym, as well. The week after the second blocker dose, I still shot a load 33 times. And they were not small loads; I definitely had hyperspermia.

But it could have been more.

For his part, Stevie was super into cuddling, but he seemed more into topping me, as though he were asserting a claim on me. We typically took turns, but my huge dick was definitely a problem for him some nights. It’s one thing to take a nearly 10-inch cock, another entirely to take one that was nearly 15 inches. I didn’t mind; I’d grown to really enjoy being plumbed out by his 9-plus inches, but my sizeable glutes mitigated some of the impact. Whereas Stevie’s butt, while nice and pert, was not nearly so deep. He got pretty much the whole salami when I was fucking him.

*****

 

[Dream Big]

*****

A month had passed, and it looked – finally! – like my growth was slowing down. I’d topped out a little over 6’5, 293 pounds. But the cock growth had been slower to taper off. I was now boasting 42 centimeters – 16.5 inches, and really hoping it would finally stop growing for good. Even when I was soft it was nearly 10 inches. Underwear had been a real challenge.

The libido was finally slowing down, too – still morning and night with Stevie, but i’d gradually lost the burning need to fire off a load every few hours. So add in one additional wank session, plus an extra on gym days. My body odor was less noticeable, too, and that was welcome. Sue asked if I’d changed deodorant, noting that whatever it was was nicer than the harsh musky stuff. When Morris measured it, my pheremonal output was much more normal. All in all, good progress.

I also found myself falling deeper and deeper into love with Stevie, wanting constant physical contact if I could get it. It was mutual but could often be left on simmer with our feet touching under the table, or just nearby.

*****

By the end of the semester, we’d braced ourselves for another lengthy period of unavailability. Stevie had final papers and graduate work to deal with. So while that was not good news, my dick had finally stopped trying to reach the fucking moon. I’d stabilized at just over 17 inches, and I was thoroughly tired of managing the monster. I could manage on just two orgasmic bursts per day and was no longer boned quite so often, but I really don’t know how I’d have managed if I couldn’t work from home. Sweatpants were a godsend.

My ridiculous gym progress had finally stalled, too, and now that I wasn’t working to channel sexual energy into lifts, I switched and began to focus on pure maintenance. It was fun to push myself, but I also had reached the point where clothing was a massive challenge, and I simply didn’t make enough money to get everything custom made and tailored.

Once I was stabilized, we worked out a plan with Dr Morris to quit the pheromone patches. We felt more in control now, and were willing to risk things once Stevie was done with courses. He had the summer to finish off his dissertation, and we were looking forward to a nice vacation before we tucked into that.

Unfortunately, we had a hiccup headed our way that neither of us had foreseen.

*****

I mentioned above that I worked a boring county government job. Technically, I wasn’t a government employee, I was a contractor with a solid, long-term contract.

Well, politics changed and the contract was being recompeted. We’d been a little worried (most of us would be kept on under a new contract and company), but then got news that made that a moot point. Our company was being sold. Our main competitor took the opportunity to acquire our name and a few other contracts. We’d all get decent buyouts based on seniority, but I was about to turn 39 and was nowhere near ready, mentally or financially, to retire. Especially since I looked like a 20-something now.

“Well, that’s a bit of a shock,” Stevie said that night when I told him. “If you want a laugh, though….”

“Please,” I said, pulling him close.

“Well, Cuppa Joes offered me a management position. Which I turned down.”

“Maybe I should apply,” I said.

“Ha hah. You’d suck at that,” Stevie said fondly. “But one of the reasons I turned it down was that an adjunct position opened up at the university, and my advisor offered it to me. It comes with benefits and could be tenure track if I finish my doctorate there.”

“That’s pretty great news,” I said.

“How big is the buyout?”

“It’s good, but it’s not good enough to retire on,” I said. “Just good enough to have a cushion while I look for another job.”

“I doubt you’ll get much age discrimination with that baby face,” he teased. “We’ll figure it out.”

*****

The next morning, I showed up at the office to deal with some final paperwork and turn in credentials. My coworkers were understandably shocked. I endured a lot of scrutiny and comments, as well as a few lingering glances. They hadn’t actually seen me in person in months, and then only from the neck up. They didn’t quite believe their eyes, nor my lame excuse that they’d misremembered how tall I was, or how young I looked. At least three people asked what the heck I’d been doing to myself, and another couple asked what gym I worked out at. Mostly, though, people pretended I hadn’t gone from a schlub to extremely muscular and grown a few inches. I’d worked there for a decade or so, and some of those folks were there when I’d started. Our former boss took us all out for a big farewell lunch.

I was annoyed that I’d have to miss my Monday gym session, but it was actually nice to be able to see folks in person, even if it was to say goodbye and make a bunch of promises we’d never be able to keep about staying in touch. Still, mindful of the value of networking, I played along.

But I had a lot of trouble sleeping that night, and was distracted the next day at the gym. Sue called me out on it, so I told her I’d been laid off.

“Caleb, you could always go pro to keep the money flowing,” she joked. “Though honestly, modeling could be a better option.”

“Get out of here,” I chuckled.

“You are in fantastic shape and you look like a man entering the prime of his life.”

“I’m 39!”

“So? You could pass for half that. Fuck, you could just do an only fans or something.”

“I don’t have any intention of whoring myself out that way,” I said, indignant.

“Fine, but the modeling can be lucrative enough you should really consider it. I’ll email you some folks who would absolutely be interested.”

*****

Stevie was knee deep in dissertation work that week, and I was meeting with my financial advisor and a job service to get a feel for my options. Six months severance, basically, plus a seniority bonus, was actually pretty decent. My skill set was pretty solid, but the job service person suggested that I lay off the gym for a bit, because I’d come across as too intimidating in interviews.

That really threw me. Internally, I was still the same guy who’d been overweight and half a foot shorter a year ago. I couldn’t intimidate my way out of a paper bag. But my body, now, was intimidating on its own, as I’d proven during the altercation at the sauna. And I literally had a strong case of Big Dick Energy — and a huge dick to back it up, on top of the muscles.

I decided we deserved a proper vacation; we had already planned most of it anyway, and Stevie had already worked out his schedule around it. So we decided to go ahead with our planned two week excursion. We’d scored a pretty good deal on a gay friendly cruise in the Caribbean, with a few days in Miami on either end.

Swimsuits for both of us meant ordering from a site that claimed to cater to well endowed men. Surprisingly, they managed to contain even my oversized junk, at least when I was soft. The baggy version was what I wore into the hot tub at the gym. I’d ordered some new nicely modest shorts, but i also picked up some much more revealing speedo-style suits for both of us. We giggled as we tried them on — his dick looked huge in them, but mine was positively obscene.

“Fuck it, we should keep them and scandalize the natives,” Stevie said, laughing at his very full basket. Then he fixed his gaze on my overstuffed pouch and shook his head. “That’s just crazy. I can’t believe they had something that actually fit that monster.”

“I think they’re made for guys who inject their junk with silicone or something. It’s all about volume, I guess. Still, I feel like I’m pushing some limits here,” I said. Even soft, I was a foot long these days. That’s a lot of dick to manage, and my balls were plenty big too. .

“We should make sure that those can stand up to a full blown boner,” he said. “You don’t want an unexpected wardrobe problem.”

It didn’t take much to raise my spirits (just a couple strokes, at least when it was Stevie), and luckily, the stretchy fabric was up to the job. But man, in a skimpy suit, if you spring a boner that’s almost a foot and a half long, there’s no hiding it. We couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.

“People are going to think this is fake,” I mused. “Because nobody has a dick this huge.”

“Just wear a big Hawaiian shirt or something and park it vertical. I know you bought one.”

“It didn’t fit.”

“What size did you get?”

“3XL,” I said.

“It’s those shoulders and pecs,” he said groping them. “And the lats and traps and biceps…”

“You may not mind, but it’s pretty inconvenient,” I groused,

“They’ll have something at the big and tall store,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’ll be baggy in the middle, and it’ll cost too much.”

“I love you, you big dork, but only you would complain about being built like a dorito. Or a tank.

“I’m an analyst, Stevie. And I have only been built like this for a few months. I’m used to shopping at the mall.”

“I know, babe,” he said. “But this is you, now, and you have to figure out how to dress like a human being. Luckily I’m not exactly a fashionista myself, thanks to being a broke grad student. So I put up with your sad dress sense.”

I was right about the big and tall store. My options were really stylish but $200, or boring and baggy for about $50-75. Still, I did find things that actually fit me, including a very silly Hawaiian shirt with smiling pineapples and bananas all over it. Stevie loved it; I worried it would draw too much attention, especially if I was stuffing my own overgrown banana under it. I’d have to come back for some more professional looking clothing after our trip, I realized. One doesn’t apply for desk jobs in sweats and workout tops.

While we were picking out some long shorts, the other customers were staring — one was a bearish older black man, and the other looked like an off-season linebacker. I had him seriously outmuscled, I suddenly realized. The clerk, a well manicured and sharply dressed Persian guy, barely disguised his appreciation for both me and Stevie, and despite blowing a few hundred bucks, I walked out feeling pretty good about myself.

 

[portlad]

I predict he's going to be very popular on that cruise.

 

[Dream Big]

I predict he's going to be very popular on that cruise.

Gosh, ya think?

I’m a few episodes ahead on this, so for a change I know where things go next.