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the Party

By Josef Howard

Boston slipped the Navigator into Park and dropped his 27 inch arm on my insanely wide shoulders. "Chad, now you know it don't matter what we get into here. All the muscle and dick in the world don't change how I feel about you."

I looked him the eyes, smiled and kissed him. It was "the talk", the same one he always gave when we went out where he knew we'd end up fucking around. Since we'd both gone through the transformation and become Studio Men, I'd long since stopped being jealous. In fact I looked forward to strange dick as much as he did, but the fact that he gave me "the talk" was still sweet. 

Boston stared into my eyes like I was the only other man in the world. His thick lips parted. He grazed his bottom lip against my top lip. My mouth opened and Boston sucked my tongue into his mouth. He fingered my nipples and grabbed my long, stiff dick through my pants. I unbuttoned and unzipped. He maneuvered my huge dick into the open and sucked it down.

This too, was a ritual as regular as "the talk". A quickie in the car to take the edge off my desire and prove his affection. Normally he'd suck me slow, keeping me from cumming until I was so hot and horny it felt like my dick was about to burst, but in the car he kept it quick, sucking hard and deep and lapping the whole length of my dick with his tongue on every bob of his head until I blasted my hot, steamy load down his muscular throat.

Boston let my glistening cock fall free. He licked the cum from his lips and grinned. We kissed deeply one last time. I tasted my sperm in his mouth. Then before we had even broken our kiss he had opened the driver side door. His head turned away and he dropped athletically to the pavement. I smiled at his eagerness, knowing he'd kept himself from coming as he sucked me because he wanted to keep his edge. He'd scout out some fresh ass in a corner somewhere in the first five minutes and hump it hard while he thought about my cock cumming inside his mouth.

Boston was already heading up the walk to the mansion's entrance before I had closed the passenger door. I enjoyed seeing him from behind. His thickly muscled butt inside his loose fitting slacks and his wide T-shaped back stretching the top of his tank top to the bursting point; the way he swung his legs around the girth of his thighs as he walked and the way his dark skin contrasted with his white tank. By the time the beefy butler had answered the front door I had caught up.

Boston hauled his shirt over his head and handed it to Remi. He knew us well by now and we knew the mansion party drill. Park your clothes at the door. I wasn't wearing a shirt. I handed Remi my shoes and pealed my pants over my thick thighs and calves and left them on the entryway floor.

Blaine, one of the Studio Men photographers snapped a picture of my naked body walking in, my fourteen inch cock unfurling in front of me. He snapped another of Boston as soon as he was nude, then held his camera out to the side as he put his arm around my neck and kissed me on the mouth. His dick hardened and flipped up to his stomach. Those Studio Men pheromones were powerful. I never got over the effect I had on normal men, even the straight ones like Blaine. Our mouths opened as we sucked face. My cock thickened, stretched and rose between Blaine's thighs, lifting his scrotum and splitting his ass cheeks as it curled up behind him. He set the camera down and put both hands on my pecs, squeezing hard but barely making an impression. I humped his crotch a little like a horny dog and he moaned. He reached around behind his back and massaged the huge head of my cock with his hand. It was slick with pre-cum and still a little moist from Boston's sucking. The more I humped the more vigorous he massaged. In a few minutes I was shooting a load between his fingers, high over his head, and into his hand, and the friction of his cock on my tight, lumpy abs had him spilling his scum. After one more open mouthed kiss, I wrapped my 28 inch arms around his tight little body and gave him a hug. He rested his head against my hard chest muscles and then released me.

Boston had already gone outside, probably shaking his head at the two of us as he walked by.

The scene in the lush backyard was already wild. About half the men were under contract like Boston and I. In exchange for exclusive photo rights over ten years, they had taken the treatment and put on the two hundred to three hundred pounds of muscle we all carried. They were hung like horses and fucked like wild broncos. Putting them near each other guaranteed pretty much nonstop action and a live show for the ordinary guys invited to the party. The ordinary guys were celebrities, paying guests, politically powerful, or members of selected press outlets that would give the Studio the publicity it needed to sell the lifestyle to the masses through magazines, videos, and guest appearances. But about 25% of the revenue came from the occasional discreet and highly expensive "house calls" -- at $100K a pop.

Four of the guests had “Donkey Dick” Dwight pinned down on a lounge chair. Two of them were licking his wide chest, thickly muscled arms and deep armpits. One of them was lapping at his low hanging balls while the fourth was trying to suck his cock. His mouth was open so wide his lips were stretched to their limit and he only had seven inches inside. He was holding on to it with both hands. Eventually Dwight lost his patience and forced the fucker’s face down as he pumped into his throat. The guy gagged, but Dwight yanked hard until it almost all inside of him. The other three stopped what they were doing to stare in awe.

Over in the hot tub the most famous threesome in gay porn were standing up fucking. Michael was in the middle as usual, his foot long cock inside Derick’s ass and Bobby’s thirteen behind him up his. As usual Michael provided the motion, impaling himself and fucking at the same time. It was his favorite position and a scene the three of them created in endless variations in dozens of Studio films. Michael, who had never been able to decide whether he was a top or a bottom, was the most beautiful blond muscle giant in film, long blond hair with a face like an angel. He hooked up with Chad and Bobby in his first scene and the three of them moved in with him a week later. Although they all worked with other Studio men and fucked around recreationally, they were otherwise inseparable. His favorite top, Bobby, was a swarthy dark haired man with a permanent five o’clock shadow and a shit eating white tooth grin with devilish eyes. Derick was a sweet, quiet man who was so well-muscled it seemed like his five foot ten inch body would burst. It was easy to see why Michael loved to fuck him. His glutes were like watermelons, high, hard and tight.

Boston was nailing our friend and sometimes co-star Jack under a tree near the high wall that surrounded the estate. Jack was an Italian whose muscularity appeared all the more astounding on his pintsized frame, covered with thick dark fur.

At one end of the yard a band was playing music on a stage, but that was only filler. Anyone who’d been at one of the Parties knew what that stage was really for. The regular guys were given numbered tickets as they arrived. Three times during the Party a number would be called, and the one who held that number would win a chance to be transformed.

A hand rested on my broad back. “Chad? Is that you?”

Behind me was a man a little older than I, muscled, but smallish, a gym body, not a bodybuilder, definitely not a Studio Man. He was tall and very handsome. “Pardon?” I said.

“It’s Ramon. You don’t recognize me? Remember, we met at the Sun a few years ago, before you … before this …” he gestured at my body. “Remember the weekend we had. Then you moved in with me, but it only lasted a week or so.”

Ramon! How could I have forgotten Ramon! At the time he was the hottest guy I’d ever fucked. He was older, attentive. He treated me like a son, in a sexy kind of way. I moved in with him after we spent the weekend together. Then after a few days the sexual energy between us faded and I realized I was just in his way. So we decided to call it quits. I told my landlord I was keeping the apartment after all, and things went back to the way they’d been before. Both of us single.

“Ramon! I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been so long.” His eyes ran all over my body, as wild as mice. It was plain my new look turned him on. I leaned into him and kissed him, in memory of that week long ago. My cock thickened. It strained against his groin and his thigh. Ramon kissed me like a starving man. His hand grabbed my cock and tugged. It rewarded his touch by lengthening and stiffening more. He stepped back and stared at it as he massaged it with his hand.

The rules said we weren’t supposed to get off with the normal guests without money changing hands -- Studio Men was a business -- but Ramon was an old friend.

I watched Ramon’s eyes grow wide as my dick reached its full potential. Before I could touch him again, he had dropped to his knees and was stuffing his mouth with it. He made a good show of it too. He had over half down his throat before he reached his limit. Ordinary guys were almost never able to service a Studio guy completely, especially orally. But the lust we engendered was so overwhelming every one of them tried.

When we’d had our fling years ago Ramon had been the bigger, more masculine guy. I had been the young lightly muscled waifish one. He seemed to get off on being the bigger guy, using me to pleasure himself, being stronger, smarter, more worldly. I thought he liked all of that, but maybe at heart he wanted what he had been giving me. And now I could give it to him. I laid my hand behind Ramon’s neck. I tilted his head forward slightly to get his mouth and his throat in a straight line, and then I yanked his head in toward my groin. Ramon gagged and sputtered as my cock forced its way into his throat, but he put up only token resistance. I pulled his head back and he gasped for breath. I yanked him into me again. This time I got more than half of my prick down his throat. It was enough to make my balls churn. His hands worked the rest of my cock as I impaled his throat again and again. Finally it stiffened and coughed thick milk inside him. Ramon groaned. Ramon splattered cum on my calves as he whipped out a load of his own on the ground.

I released his head. He let my thick cock slip out. It bobbed near his face as he licked it eagerly. I helped him stand and we kissed. I tasted my thick cream in his mouth as we tangled tongues.

The music stopped. We kept kissing. The MC started reading numbers. Ramon reluctantly broke the kiss. He dug his raffle ticket out. His eyes began to grow wide. As the last number was read Ramon jumped and shouted. He flung his arms around my thick neck and kissed me again, then he worked his way to the stage, dodging and weaving his way through the crowd. I followed in his wake. At the side of the stage he disappeared for a minute, walking behind the stage, walked out from behind the curtains, standing next to the MC, who was one of us, standing on the stage with his shirt off.

The MC put his arm around him. I noticed Ramon’s pants were still unfastened and his cock was dangling out, wet and dripping.

“It looks like someone’s been enjoying himself,” the MC said.

Ramon smiled, but he didn’t bother trying to cover himself. It was one of the things I had loved about him years ago – his unabashed sexuality.

“What’s your name?” the big guy asked and pointed a mike in Ramon’s face. Ramon answered. He looked small next to the MC, but still he was pretty impressive for a regular guy his age. His shoulders and arms still filled out the sleeves of his shirt nicely, and his soft dick would have done most guys proud. Perhaps that was why he was so relaxed about his body.

“Do you know why we called you up here?”

“You called my ticket number.”

“That’s right. You’re first raffle winner. Are you ready to give it a go?”

Ramon nodded enthusiastically. The crowd cheered. About half the audience around the stage was paying customers like Ramon. The other half was guys like me. It didn’t matter whether you’d gone through it or not, watching it happen was the hottest sight on earth.

“Did they give you a drink of water back stage?” the MC asked.

Ramon nodded.

“What would you say if I told you you’d just taken the formula?”

Ramon grinned. The crowd cheered again.

The first change that was visible on Ramon, since he was wearing shorts, was his calves. Almost as straight as pipes and smooth when he first came on stage, they were beginning to widen at the top and get veiny. Then his chest, delts and traps began to fill out his shirt, and finally his thighs grew enough to make the tops of his shorts snug. His cock, dangling out of his pants, was thicker and longer too, even though it hadn’t begun to get stiff…yet. The top of his pecs, visible below his open collar, were getting so thick a shadow formed between them. His traps were forming a pyramid from his shoulders to his wide neck. His arms started to fill his short sleeves. Finally his lats got so wide and his chest got so thick that the top buttons of his shirt were strained. As hot as it was to watch, I knew it was even sexier to feel it happen to you. You could see the sexual ecstasy on Ramon’s face. His eyes were staring blankly over the crowd. His mouth hung open. His eyes almost made him look pained, but the way his dick was filling out made his true feelings obvious. Though it was still hanging downward, it had started to lift itself a bit, and it had stretched out over a foot, really thick from the bottom to the middle, then tapering slightly to his foreskin. Ramon tugged on it and shoved his other hand into his shirt to feel his thick, hard chest muscles. He probably wasn’t even thinking about people looking at him now. He was totally lost in the overwhelming lust rushing through his veins.

The crowd was hooting and chanting. The middle button on his shirt popped and someone yelled, “Rip it off!”

Ramon pulled it open with his hands, popping the rest of the buttons and exposing his twin stacks of cobblestone abs. His shoulders and arms proved to be too big already to wiggle his way out of the sleeves, so je raised his arms and squeezed out a double bi that split them up the sides. The MC tore away the tattered sleeves away and left the rest of his wide open Lilliputian shirt on.

The crowd barely had time to get over that sight before his one-eyed snake lifted itself straight up to his chest. At first Ramon didn’t realize what they were whooping about, but when he saw it he smiled even wider. He rubbed a wide paw from the head to the root causing the head to peek out from his foreskin. Ramon unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to his ankles. The crowd cheered. Looking out over the audience. He couldn’t control himself. His hands wrapped around his cock and jerked it a couple times. His eyes clenched; his jaw dropped. A guy in the front row jumped on stage and knelt in front of him to give him head with his mouth. Ramon tweaked his distended nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The guy sucking his dick rubbed his hands over Ramon’s hard stomach and his chest. Ramon had just about reached the growth limits of a single dose. Without another one, or the fixer formula, his newfound size would fade over the next year, unless he started hitting the gym and working at it.

I glanced around the audience. A few of them, especially the guys like me, had hauled out their hard dicks and some of them were getting serviced by the guys around them, rules be damned.

“Hot, huh?” Boston’s deep voice whispered in my ear from behind. His hand was rubbing between my ass cheeks. His cock grazed my hip. His voice alone was enough to make my dick point high. His touch had me pushing back against his hand, helping his thumb find my anus. His cock followed his thumb. Soon his huge hands were planted on my shoulders as he humped my ass. My dick bobbed as my body shook. I felt him erupt inside my guts and I let myself go too, splattering the guys in front of me.

Apparently it was in the air. Ramon’s new friend was also getting covered in cum.

Boston pulled out. He put an arm around my waist and pulled me into him as we both faced the stage.

(more to come)

the Party