NEW STORY - Transform: New Blood (Part 42c)

[AKA]

And, yes, I will admit that this story will go a long way to illustrating my on-going lust and fascination with a certain French porn stud. For those of you actually speak/write French, my apologies for anything I got wrong in this (rather lengthy) chapter. I relied on Google Translate for the French phrases.


Transform: New Blood
Part 42c

Rain was falling. It made Paris look romantic. The sky was the color of slate, and the avenue was empty of tourists, for once. Stuart scribbled in his Moleskin, drawing penciled pictures of the caf??s interior and its sole other inhabitant.

The man was squeezed into a white ribbed tank top that was stretched to its limits. He had a bald head and a thick, muscular neck. He sat sprawled in a wrought iron chair near the entrance, half in and half out of the caf?, his long powerful legs extending onto the sidewalk. A small cup of espresso sat untouched before him, and his eyes were covered with a pair of mirrored Aviator sunglasses.

Stuart was attracted to him the minute he walked in. Stuart was a muscle fan, so there was that, but there was something more, something both familiar and oddly alien about him. Also, his appearance itself was weird. One moment the table was empty, the next the man was sitting there just as he was now, his long, powerful frame stretched along a line, one arm resting on the table, the other lying across his lap.

Stuart was a student on a yearlong European ?study vacation,? though it had been more vacation than study, of late. His American dollars weren?t stretching nearly as far, thanks to some rather poor monetary decisions by the current U.S. administration, and his interest in art had waned along with his stipend. Mommy and daddy were quickly losing interest in financing his continued debauchery, not that it was his real Mommy or his real Daddy anymore, anyway. How many divorces had there been, and him tossed around like so much rubbish.

He sighed and drew a thick line representing the swelling bulge of muscle along the man?s upper arm. He would have been an excellent model, Stuart decided. His body was etched with powerful lines everywhere. How much fun would it be to sit before his naked body and make love to every inch of him with pen and ink?

Stuart looked up to study that arm again and discovered that the man had moved. The man had, in fact, moved toward his table and was now, this very moment, staring down at the drawing that Stuart had been slowly fussing with.

?Est-ce que c'est suppos? ?tre moi?? Stuart felt a chill run through him. The man was absurdly tall, and absurdly powerful. That white athletic shirt did absolutely nothing to hide his massive build. His voice was a deep, gruff burr, and he had a dark goatee and mustache surrounding a beautiful mouth.

?Oui, si elle n'est pas tr?s bonne.? Stuart tried to give the man an apologetic smile.

?You are Americain?? His French accent and deep voice made the question eminently sexy.

Stuart decided to answer in French. ?Oui, comment pouvez-vous dire??

?Your accent is good, but is not great.? He was smiling as he pulled an adjacent chair around and spun it with a deft and confident elegance, sitting down at Stuart?s table, his legs spread open as he sat facing the back of his own chair. He folded his massive arms over the chair?s back and leaned forward, peering at Stuart?s open notebook. ?Is not bad,? he said. ?I think, though, my head is not so? comment dit-on ?carr????

??Square.? Not so square.? Stuart looked down and he had to agree.

The other man laughed slightly and a hand was thrust into Stuart?s view. ?I am called Francois.?

Now it was Stuart?s turn to laugh. Of course that would be his name. ?Stuart,? he introduced, and he grabbed the wide paw. The man?s grip was almost painfully strong, though he seemed to realize this and softened his hold. The muscles of his arm twisted and flexed in a most agreeable manner, and he had a thick bush of shining black hair in his pit. Stuart felt both attracted and apprehensive. He was just so fucking huge!

?You are an artiste?? he asked, tilting his head in a most puppy-like fashion. He smiled into the word ?artiste,? as if he enjoyed saying it.

Stuart blushed and shook his head. ?Not really.?

?May I look?? Francois?s hand moved toward the open notebook. Stuart nodded and lifted it into the man?s hands, watching him with curiosity and a growing sexual interest.

There was no denying the man?s beauty. It was a kind of pure masculine handsomeness. His face had powerful lines around the mouth, though it was otherwise smooth. His cranium was beautifully sculpted, elegant and real. He looked to be in his mid 20?s, maybe five years older than Stuart was himself, though he was possessed of a powerful self-confidence. And why wouldn?t he, built like that? The man looked like he could take on an army!

His hands, though strong, made delicate work of the notebook. After lifting his mirrored glasses to rest on his forehead, he turned the pages carefully and his dark, almost black eyes danced across them. The smile on his animated face grew and shrank in intensity as he moved through Stuart?s pencil drawings of Paris street scenes and gardens, and he lingered the longest on the pictures depicting the various handsome men that Stuart had captured with an admiring hand. Clearly, they shared an interest in a beautiful man.

He looked up as he handed the notebook back and said, ?Vous ?tes tr?s bien!?

Stuart blushed again. Something about the man?s voice went straight to his crotch, and having the man pay him a compliment only made it worse. ?Merci,? he said, tucking the notebook into his satchel, ?Vous ?tes trop aimable.?

?Oh, mais non!? he protested. His handsome face tilted and he added, ?You have a very good eyes.?

?I think I miss the details.?

Francois raised his eyebrows into an arch and said. ?Ah, no. My meaning is? you have good eyes. Very pretty.? He pointed to his own eyes and smiled. It made Stuart melt.

?Thanks,? he mumbled.

?You will want to draw me?? Francois sat up and puffed out his chest. It was a wonder his shirt didn?t explode. He was truly a massive man, with wide shoulders and a barrel chest with two rounded, very distinct globes of muscle. His nipples poked tents against the white cotton of his tight T-shirt, and his arms bulged with an almost frightening amount of brawn. ?I am posing!?

Stuart laughed. The dude was a ham. ?I would love to draw you, Francois.?

?Excellent!? Francois relaxed his impressive collection of brawn and scooted his butt back on the seat, resting his chin on his arms across the back of the chair. His Aviators were perched on his gleaming shaven head and his dark eyes studied Stuart carefully. ?I have seen you here before.?

Stuart?s brow furrowed. It was true, this was his favorite caf?, but he didn?t remember ever seeing Francois before. He would have remembered him. He was a remarkable looking man, and anyone that big was bound to stand out in Paris.

?Oui??

Francois nodded emphatically. ?You are always sitting here, drawing. The light is good, yes?? Stuart nodded. ?The light is good,? Francois repeated, softly. ?Do you know Henri?? That smile was back again. Gorgeous.

Stuart said, ?A little.? Henri was the proprietor of the little caf?. A handsome man, and built as well. He was the prime reason Stuart frequented the caf?, just to watch Henri work. He was built like a dockworker, with a massive upper body and strong legs. Stuart had a few drawings of Henri?s face and body in his notebook, he was a favorite model. But hard to capture, because the man never seemed to stop working. ?He?s very nice.?

Francois said, ?Do you think? I will tell him!?

?You know him??

?Very well,? he answered, and then he winked. ?We are lovers.?

It was hardly shocking, and it wasn?t meant to be. Almost everyone Stuart met in Europe claimed to be bi. But a vision of the two muscular men naked together, tangled in each others? strong arms, lips locked, cocks hard, flashed across Stuart?s mind and his cock jumped.

?He is very good,? Francois volunteered, ?but we are not? exclusif??

?Exclusive,? Stuart repeated.

?You?? Francois pursed his lips and allowed his dark gaze to scan Stuart?s body.

Stuart blushed again and shook his head. ?No, no boyfriend.?

?Ah! I knew you liked mens. It is obvious from your drawings.? The huge man suddenly stood up and grabbed onto Stuart?s shoulder. ?We go to your appartement. I will pose for you! Yes??

?I?m not sure? I don?t think??

?You are scared?? Suddenly the other man almost looked hurt.

?No, I don?t think that would work. I live? I?m in a very small place. In Le Marais.? Francois stood over him looking for all the world like a wounded puppy. A giant, muscular, sexy as fuck wounded puppy. Stuart sighed and stood up. ?All right, let?s go to my place.?

Now that he stood next to Francois, he realized just how huge he actually was. In fact, ?huge? didn?t even come close. His muscles had muscles. Yet his face, as handsome as it was, had this odd innocence and openness about it. Stuart felt that, for whatever reason, he could trust the man.

Francois laid his heavy arm across the smaller man?s shoulder and spun him toward the door. They walked out into the warm rain and started up the boulevard toward Le Marais.

It wasn?t a fine mist that fell from the sky, but it wasn?t a torrent, either. Still, it was enough wetness to turn Francois?s shirt transparent, so that from a distance, someone might have thought he wasn?t wearing a shirt at all. Stuart was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as they walked together through Parisian streets. The man was decidedly sexy, and his body was a wonder of muscular beauty.

He was a very animated and friendly sort, which contrasted with the utter physical sensuousness with which he moved. Did he not notice how sexy he was? And if that was true, it made him even sexier!

He asked Stuart about his favorite gardens and buildings, and where he had found such handsome men. He asked him if he liked Paris as much as Francois himself did. He asked him about his lovers, and if there was someone back home.

?I wish,? he answered. ?I?m not very good at?? Stuart?s face showed his struggle to explain his lack of sexual activity. ?I?m not sexy.?

Francois stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Stuart?s shoulders, spinning him around. Francois was a full head taller than the American in his grip, and probably twice as wide. ?Vous ?tes tr?s sexy. Tu es magnifique.? He said it with such conviction that all Stuart could do was stare at his face. ?Maybe you have not found your lover, yet, Stuart.? The way Francois said his name made Stuart feel like swooning into his arms. The look on the huge man?s kind face and in his gorgeous eyes was breathtaking.

There was a moment there, in the summer rain, on a Paris boulevard, when time seemed to stop. Stuart felt something strong passing between them. But he passed it off as imagination, or a dream, or a wish. Francois was looking into his eyes with an intensity that made Stuart feel weak and vulnerable. It was so strong that it scared him a little, and he broke the eye contact and gestured up the block. ?We?re nearly there,? he said.

They reached Stuart?s apartment building and climbed the stairs to his tiny third floor flat. The stairs creaked menacingly under the weight of his muscular companion, and Francois literally had to turn sideways to fit his bulk into Stuart?s doorframe, but once inside he was smiling again and looking at everything among Stuart?s collection of ephemera.

?C'est beau!?

Stuart, after hanging up his jacket and setting his satchel down, turned around to see what Francois was considering so beautiful. What his eyes found was that the man, standing near the tall open window, was looking across the Paris skyline as the rain fell, making the city glow and glisten in the soft gray light. What Stuart found beautiful was the man himself, rendered in that same light, looking almost like a dream. He was posed in a relaxed stance, leaning against the sill, his strong hands at his side. The prominence of the bulge in his pants was almost absurdly large, as if his manhood was pushing for release. The material gathered around it with slim, hard folds.

Stuart felt himself grow suddenly very warm, even though the storm had chilled his little flat, at the site of Francois standing utterly, completely, wonderfully perfect at the wide open window, looking out across the square at the gray afternoon light filtering across Paris.

The huge, muscular man was an orchestrated symphony of perfect brawn. Stuart could hardly believe that such a collection of muscular perfection actually existed outside a comic book. Every muscle on the man?s enormous frame was a sonnet to the male body. He was incredibly beautiful. C?est beau, indeed. ?Francois??

?Oui?? The man turned his face, and then his entire body, toward Stuart.

?Do you want anything to drink? Something to eat before I sketch you??

The other man?s smile made his hard sculpture of a face light up. ?Non, merci. I would like it to take off my clothes, if that is possible. I am wet with rain.?

?I don?t think I have anything that would fit you.? Of course he didn?t. Stuart lacked Francois?s bulk and height by leagues.

?No problem,? the other man said, and he began slowly to strip the clinging shirt from his upper body. It moved as if it refused to surrender its hold on his muscles, dragging itself along the bulging inches as he revealed the glorious and amazing collection of brawn he had no doubt worked years on perfecting. He owned a light dusting of curls that clung to the heavy roundness of each peck and accentuated their separate glory. He easily tossed the discarded shirt into Stuart?s kitchen sink and set his fingers to the button fly of his tight jeans, and the swollen mass pressing urgently at its crotch.

He wore no underwear, and as each button was released, a glorious wealth of dark curls revealed itself. Stuart?s breath caught in his throat at the personal striptease he was being afforded, and Francois watched the smaller man?s reaction with interest.

As his magnificent and abundant collection of sexual equipment began to come into view, Francois reached his left paw into the crotch of his jeans to grab hold of his cock and balls and pull them forth, working them from their tight cage into the open air. The fat, uncut prick and heavy nut sack easily overwhelmed his huge grip. Then he stood there, naked from the waist up, his manhood arching out from his splayed jeans, and smiled.

Rather than look small in comparison to the rest of the man, it could more than compete for attention. He owned a huge, fat, long length of cock, arching proudly over a set of balls that were unusually large. Farm fresh eggs wished they looked like that. Stuart usually found an uncut cock kind of? ugly. Like it wasn?t quite done maturing, or it wasn?t all there. But Francois owned an uncut length of gorgeous, thick prick. His foreskin was ample enough to grip more than half of his thick helmet, but not so much that it resembled a thick turtleneck that overwhelmed it. It complimented the shape and size of his godlike cock, and it was, in a word, perfection.

?Wow.? Stuart looked into the other man?s dark gaze and said, ?You?re naked.?

?Bien s?r! I am posing for you now. Is this not how you want me? Do you not like the view?? He grinned foolishly and brought his arms up, suddenly swelling his collection of muscles into stark, swollen perfection. ?Ah, I see you do like me!? His gaze had fallen to Stuart?s own crotch, which was showing definite signs of life.

Stuart paled, then blushed. ?You?re gorgeous, Francois. You?re easily the most beautiful man that I have ever seen.?

Francois nodded and lowered his arms. In the soft afternoon shadows, his skin took on a silvery glow and his eyes twinkled and flashed. ?I am glad you are happy.? He set his hand to the waistband of his jeans and shoved them down his legs. They were amazing. Colossal. Every muscle was a swollen wedge of power, flexing and jostling for space under his bronzed skin. When he turned around to deposit the jeans in the sink as well, Stuart was gifted with a view of the most gorgeous bubble butt he?d ever seen, and certainly the most beautiful one he?d seen in all its naked glory.

Francois strode toward Stuart and, quite suddenly, surrounded the smaller man in his embrace and applied his lips to Stuart?s mouth. His beard and mustache tickled, and Stuart felt his thick, soft tongue as Francois pushed it easily inside his mouth.

A rush of sexual bliss erupted inside Stuart, with a passion so strong that his cock was instantly hard and shoving insistently against his underwear and jeans.

Francois moved his hand down to Stuart?s crotch and began to easily and eagerly massage his hard-on, squeezing his shaft and rubbing his head through the denim. A blazing rush of tingling sexually erupted under the huge man?s ministrations. Stuart had never been touched so expertly, and he felt he could already start cumming inside his shorts, so he extracted himself from the other man?s handling and gulped, finding it suddenly hard to breath.

His whole body was hot, flush with sexual heat. Francois was grinning, and his massive cock was showing signs of life. ?I am sorry, but you are so beautiful, Stuart.? He snapped to attention and saluted the smaller man comically. ?I am your slave. Where do you want me to be posing?? He winked and that gorgeous smile was back again.

Stuart tried to gather his wits about him and he said, ?No, it?s all right. You kind of took me by surprise.? He tried to smile but so much blood had rushed into his cock he wondered if any of his other muscles would even work. ?Why don?t you go back to the window. The light is perfect and you looked? your body?.?

?Oui, Stuart. I am your slave.? Francois turned around, giving Stuart an expert view of his marvelously high and tight buttocks, and he stood again at the open window. ?Like this?? he asked.

Stuart retrieved a larger notepad and a pencil, then he looked at the large man standing at the window in the filtered light. ?Just relax, Francois. Like you were before.?

?I am relaxed,? he said.

?Not entirely,? Stuart replied, pointing toward the other man?s burgeoning hard on with the end of his pencil. The man?s mammoth appendage was visibly throbbing and swelling. The 10-inch shaft was arching forward over his balls, and the foreskin was retreating from the plumping head.

Francois looked down and grinned. It made him look mischievous and almost evil. ?Mon Dieu, regardez ce que vous avez fait pour moi!? He reached down and easily and unashamedly tugged on his growing erection, playing with his foreskin and rubbing his thumb across the helmet before slowly stroking its massive shank, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. A low, softly whispered sigh escaped him, accompanied by an almost-silent but deeply powerful moan. It emerged from his massive chest and Stuart felt the power of the man?s voice once again zeroing in on his own crotch.

Francois looked up again as he continued to slowly, contentedly bring himself to orgasmic release, his cock continuing its inexorable climb toward erection, and he asked Stuart, ?Do you want it to go down? Or do you want to go down?? He laughed at his awkward pun and then seemed to feel an intense shock of pleasure, because he sucked in a tight, hard breath and shut his eyes, tossing back his shaven head and bringing his overwhelming wealth of muscles into sharp relief.

Stuart was amazed and enthralled. So much man, so naked, so beautiful, so sexual, just standing here in his apartment in Paris. Francois lifted his palm to his mouth and set his tongue to the skin, slicking the surface with a shine of spit before applying it back to his raging hard-on. It was arching upward, now, and still growing. How long was it going to get? How big was he? Stuart started to push against his own hidden erection in his pants with the heel of his hand, watching the other man?s obvious pleasure mounting.

Francois was looking down at his own mammoth cock with a kind of reverence and worship when his eyes shifted toward Stuart. A naked, feral need shone in his dark gaze. His grip was moving with slow deliberation, using the wealth of loose skin covering the hard shaft to easily stroke the entirety of his massive meat. His shining red helmet, gleaming with a coating of precum, appeared and disappeared beneath its cowl of foreskin. It was evident to Stuart that the man was using him as an erotic tool, focusing his gaze on Stuart while his body was growing more powerfully charged with sexual energy with every stroke of his swelling cock.

Francois opened his sensual mouth slightly and moved his pink tongue across the thick expanse of his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth and rubbing the soft, moist flesh across the pure white. His chest, a massive set of muscular globes, slowly rose and fell as he breathed, and his free hand moved up his body to start playing with one of his thick, dark nipples. He never closed his eyes or took his gaze from Stuart?s face as he continued to so easily and openly pleasure himself at the open window, visible to anyone who happened to look up.

Stuart?s prick was in pain. It was hard as a rock but confined in his pants, pushing urgently against his underwear and trousers. The room felt hot and Stuart momentarily forgot where he was or what he was doing when he dropped his pencil and the sound as it struck the wooden floor woke him from his reverie and he bent to retrieve it, causing his cock to shift to a more manageable angle.

Francois smiled, and huffed out a silent laugh. He turned more fully toward Stuart and spread his legs apart, pointing his now fully erect and monstrously huge cock directly at Stuart. The soft light from the window rendered the bulges and cables of muscle that swelled from every inch in sharper contrast, and it lent his flesh a golden pink glow as if the man was made of copper. A drool of silver precum was flowing from the tip of his dick, and he used his thumb to spread the warmth over his helmet.

Francois never stopped stroking his cock as Stuart walked across the room. His eyes never left the other man?s, and his smile grew in intensity. His mouth quirked into a smile and he said, ?Voulez-vous me sucer?? He removed his own grip from his cock, and it arched upward from between his legs. It was visibly throbbing and a long silver thread of precum drooled from the top. His low hangers surged and moved like they were alive. He was breathing slow and deep, the band of muscles over his belly expanding and contracting.

Stuart felt excited and scared at the sight. The man owned the biggest cock he?d ever seen, either in person or in picture. Porn stars wished they owned that prick, and it was all for him. He nodded and swallowed and licked his lips. He wanted it in his mouth, to taste its deeply masculine tang and lick that honey from its fount. To feel its warmth against his tongue and the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat.

He approached the giant of a man and sank to his knees, the slowly, steadily throbbing tool an inch from his face. He leaned against it and felt its heat and hardness on his cheek, beside his eye, extending along the side of his face. He lifted his hand and placed it on the fat shank and wrapped his fingers around its mass. It was hard as steel. He squeezed it experimentally and it seemed to take intense joy in the action, swelling against his grip.

He looked up and found Francois looking down at him. He was all muscle, a collection of mountains leading up to that beautiful face. His eyes were unfathomable, dark pits of warm chocolate. Stuart guided his lips to the plum of Francois?s cockhead and he moved them around its exterior, sticking his tongue under the tight foreskin, pushing it back from the helmet and over its flaring ridge. The earthy, salty taste of the man?s precum sank into Stuart?s senses like a tonic, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with the power of the man.

He sucked the head inside his mouth and tried to swallow him whole, all at once. Stuart fucking loved to suck cock. He was good at it, he knew, because he enjoyed it. He couldn?t get enough of it, even given the gift of the biggest cock on the planet, as far as he knew.

Was it a foot long? Longer even than that? 13 inches? 14? It didn?t matter, it was fucking enormous, fucking hot and fucking hard. He wanted the cannon to blast its load all over him, flooding his mouth and coating his face and bathing him in its white, sticky heat.

A kind of sexual delirium took over Stuart?s mind. The man?s cock was hard and hot and pumped salty deliciousness into his mouth. He looked up the muscled contours of the man?s perfection and drank in the sight of his gorgeous, haunting eyes looking down at him. Francois placed his huge hand behind Stuart?s head, lovingly, rapturously, and closed his eyes and let his head fall backward and slowly began to fuck Stuart?s face.

Stuart brought his hands up to grasp the thick shank of the huge prick and felt its heat in his grip. It almost seemed to pulse, and swell, and throb in his hands, a living thing with its own needs and desires, a swelling mass of masculine power delivering a steady flow of sex into his mouth. His tongue and throat tingled with some alien but altogether agreeable feeling of warm bliss, as if the man?s cock was delivering orgasmic pleasure directly to his senses through his mouth. He closed his eyes and sank into the sensation.

The feeling of ultimate sexual bliss washed over Stuart in a flood of wet warmth. Francois tasted like pure sex. Stuart wanted to swallow him whole. His body felt suddenly hard and light at the same time, like he was made up of metal and filled with helium. He opened his eyes as he swallowed the huge cock and looked up the muscled contours of the other man?s enormous muscular form. A gush of something sweet and salty filled his senses and Francois was smiling at him.

?Kiss me, Stuart,? he growled. ?Stuart,? he said softly, ?kiss me. I need a kiss.?

Stuart didn?t want to release him. He wanted to remain here, on his knees, sucking this cock forever. But there was evident need in Francois?s voice, and something in his eyes that made Stuart want to kiss him even more than suck him.

The man was huge, powerful, and overwhelmingly beautiful. Could he manage a kiss to satisfy such a man? Stuart fancied himself an excellent kisser, and valued a good kiss beyond almost anything for its passion and satisfaction. A good kiss could make him as hard as Francois, though not nearly as huge.

He moved his mouth off the throbbing length of meat and kissed the tip with a slight suck, pulling another gush of salty precum inside his mouth. He held it there, intending on allowing Francois to taste his own sex. He rose slowly to his feet, his gaze moving up the bulging muscles of the other man?s torso, over the egg carton abs and the huge overhanging pecs and the dusting of fur coating his beautiful flesh.

Stuart moved his hand behind Francois?s massive neck and the other man bent his head down to meet Stuart?s mouth with his own. A strong masculine scent surrounded Stuart as they came together, accompanied by a sensation of heat and a remarkably sexual rush like a shock of hot oil dripping along his skin. Francois moved his arms around Stuart?s body and turned to allow the other man closer contact. The heat and hardness of his erection pushed intently against Stuart?s smaller body like a further reminder of the other man?s strong sexual power.

Their lips met, tentatively at first. Francois possessed soft, warm, perfect lips. His kiss was tender and loving, then more insistent, with growing passion, until the two men were locked together in an embrace, their lips and tongues combining to bring both to a heightened sense of glorious sensuality.

The kiss lingered for minutes. It felt to Stuart as if he were melting. Francois?s body seemed to swell against him, like his muscles were swelling as large as his hard-on. Francois broke the kiss and sighed contentedly. He moved his mouth to Stuart?s ear and whispered, ?Fuck me, Stuart. I want you inside of me. I want to feel you with me.?

?I can?t,? Stuart said. He felt intimidated and scared. He felt shy and embarrassed. Francois was so beautiful, so powerful, so sensual, so massive. Francois was perfection.

?Fuck me.? Francois moved his hand down to Stuart?s caged beast and squeezed against his hardness. ?Fuck me,? he asked, pulling the other man?s smaller body into a tight, muscled embrace. His hand was deftly releasing Stuart?s belt, opening his pants, digging inside to caress his cock. ?Fuck me.?


Francois was a volcano of suppressed sexual energy. An off-the-Richter Scale earthquake waiting to happen. Transform was pushing an insistent tide of power through his body and it wanted release.

He?d been targeting Stuart for three days. Henri wanted him, of course, because he was a beautiful youth, with an angel?s face and an ass to die for. But Francois set eyes on him first, and laid claim to him. He lingered and waited and bided his time, enjoying the feeling of anticipation of this moment, now, here, in the young man?s rooms.

It was everything he had hoped it would be. It was like a film, the seduction and the walk in the rain and the striptease. Wonderful. Perfect. Exactly as he had wished it would be.

But now he could no longer wait. His ass hungered for the man?s cock. His body trembled with its cargo. He was ready to explode.

?Fuck me,? he repeated, pulling Stuart?s pants down his legs and pausing to lick his stiff little prick. It was throbbing and red and hard as steel. He had a shaven ballsack and lovely, lithe legs coated in a soft golden fur. ?Fuck me,? he said, sucking Stuart?s bulbous cock head inside his mouth for just a moment and sending a shivering hint of his full sexuality into the young man?s body. His majestic form rose to its full height and he locked smoldering dark eyes with Stuart, and his sensuous lips parted and he repeated, softly, ?Fuck me.?

Francois took Stuart?s hand in his. Even his hand was large, but his palm felt warm and smooth and comforting. Francois pulled Stuart toward the bed and turned to kiss his mouth again, sending cascades of sexual bliss through Stuart?s body, before sitting on the edge of the bed and caressing Stuart?s hard-on with intimate reverence. He moved his mouth forward, his dark eyes staring into Stuart?s, and he sucked the cock into his warm mouth and applied a wet coat of spit, licking the tool everywhere until it was slick and shiny. ?Fuck me,? he said gently, but insistently. He lay back on the bed and pulled his legs up and revealed the tight pink rosette of his asshole.

Stuart obeyed the man?s request. How could he refuse? He moved his hands to his rock-hard prick and managed to point it toward the target. The scent of Francois surrounded him in a fog of sexuality. He pressed the head of his cock to the puckered entry to heaven and pushed himself inside, and found himself suddenly feeling a deep tingling sensation of orgasmic bliss such as he?d never experienced before. A sense of incredibly intense erotic pulses grabbed onto his cock and echoed into his body, suffusing his sense in the overwhelming sexual power of the man beneath him.

Francois smiled. At last, they were connected. He welcomed Stuart inside and closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of being fucked. It felt so god, so right, so perfectly powerful. He sent throbbing pulses of Transform?s erotic power through his ass into his lover?s body. He pushed growth into Stuart?s cock. He wanted it to fill him up entirely, and he wanted to return the sensation of erotic bliss he was experiencing now.

Stuart felt it starting, but it didn?t feel entirely different from the feeling he always got fucking a tight, perfect, well-trained ass. His cock suddenly felt huge, almost unbelievably large, swollen with sex and seed.

?Here it come,? Francois said, softly. ?Vous serez transform?.?

Stuart knew the meaning. ?You will be transformed.? It sounded more like a promise than a statement. He looked down and Francois was smiling again. His body seemed more impressive than ever, packed with muscular power, overwhelmed with masculine beauty, the very epitome of male perfection, almost as if he were glowing. His skin was sleek and golden, his pecs swelled enormously, his nipples looked like dark stains on the godlike chest, with fat caps pointing toward Stuart.

Something inside him snapped. Something tilted and broke apart and erupted. A flood of cream was suddenly erupting from his cock, uncontrolled and massive, pouring from him like a flood, swelling inside Francois?s gut. He felt hot, hot everywhere, like his flesh was on fire, like his very muscles were bursting through his skin, huge and powerful.

?Fuck me,? Francois instructed him. ?Fuck me, harder!?

Stuart pushed himself in with renewed vigor, pistoning his hips and fucking Francois deep and hard. He felt like he was already cumming, like his cock was thrusting gallons of cream into Francois with every push, and his balls were shoving more out every second. His entire body shook with unrestrained sexual bliss, and every fiber and cell seemed to throb and tingle.

Francois was still rock hard, and he moved his arms back, pushing his upper body up onto his elbows. His belly erupted with an 8-pack of power and his cock pushed up his body, trailing a thick stream of precum across his golden skin. Impossibly, Stuart watched Francois lean up and bend his mouth closer and closer to his long, thick cock, stretching his wet tongue forward and licking his own tip. It was possibly the sexiest thing Stuart had ever seen.

Francois released more Transform into Stuart?s body. He allowed his cock to lengthen and swell, he pulled himself up and sucked his own prick inside his mouth and delivered a thick, hot gush of cream that he swallowed hungrily.

Stuart felt a sudden hard explosion of heat through his body. His cock was on fire. His ass was, too. He was made of sex and power and strength. He fucked Francois harder, watching the other man sucking his own cock as his ass was pounded deeper and deeper.

Francois looked up and their eyes met and Francois shoved an overload of Transform into Stuart?s body and watched his shirt ripping itself apart at the seams. He was growing steadily now, his body?s muscles were shifting and swelling and bulging under his skin. He seemed unaware that anything was happening. Francois gulped another fat flow of salty cream inside his throat and pushed another heavy dose of Transform into Stuart.

He grew larger, and larger. His biceps expanded. His chest inflated. His neck thickened on his widening shoulders. His cock went deeper and deeper into Francois?s ass. He was shooting thick ropes of hot cream and drowning in sexual bliss. His muscles burned with power as they grew fatter with hard meat. Veins wound across his body to feed his growth. Sweat poured from his skin as he tore through his clothing and fell headlong into his own dream, made real.

Stuart was becoming Transformed.

[Mad Dog]

Holy shit this is hot as hell. Even if it's out of order, bless you, AKA. :3

[michaelv2]

An American in Paris - the remake! Fabulous. Sagat is a fascinating man - his blog is always surprising and always very hot, as was this story. I'll always love Paris!

[philat99]

These supplemental stories are great, as usual. I'm still really awaiting your concluding chapter(s) tying up loose ends in the main story. Keep up the great work!
Mike

[xxaddict]

i can't wait for the next chapter. thank you for continuing this! =]