Meatballs, pt4

[manlion]

Sorry it's been so long, guys, I've been busy with school, and I wasn't sure how to continue. Got some new ideas, and I'm on spring break, so I should have at least one more chapter inside the next week, if not more.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

---

Freddie woke up to a knock on his door. His father's voice called out.

"Get up, kiddo, I made breakfast. I've got to head down to the office early and get more paperwork done before the day starts."

Fred moaned, and rolled over on his stomach. He grinned into his pillow as he recalled his father's 'activity' which had kept him busy all evening. First was the jerk-off session on the couch, then the extended workout in the basement, to 'burn off some of this damned nervous energy..', which had then culminated in a final marathon of masturbation, 'safely' behind the not-as-soundproof-as-you'd-think master bedroom doors.

His father's voice went sing-song as he tried to sound tantalizing. "I made garbage omelets... Mine uses the chili-dog leftovers from Sunday, and yours uses the leftovers from last night." At that, Fred jumped up and pulled on a shirt, pointedly ignoring his morning wood as he sped down to the table. His father either didn't notice, or didn't care.

The eggs were as delicious as the pasta had been, proving that whatever this sauce was, it worked with any combination of foods. He even noticed little bits of meat mixed in, which he pointed out. "Tossed the leftover sauce in the blender for a few seconds, just long enough to make it bite-size."

Sitting at the table as they both chewed, Freddie noticed the usual stinging scent of his father's aftershave. Glancing up, Freddie noticed that the elder Redgrove looked like he'd not shaved in days. "Forget something?" The younger man stroked his own chin to gesture, freezing for half a second at the sandpaper texture of his own jaw.

"What?" Michael put a hand to his face, and his eyes widened. "But, but.." His chair almost fell over as he leapt towards the counter, where his briefcase sat. Pulling out a stapled packet, he flipped through a series of xeroxed papers.

"What is it, Dad?"

His father scanned the page, then visibly relaxed. "Nothing. Don't worry about it." He glanced at the wall. "Crap! I'm running late. You're gonna make it to class on time, right?" He grabbed his mostly-empty breakfast plate, setting it into the sink.

"Of course."

"Alright, see you after lunch." Michael closed the briefcase and headed out the back door. Freddie noticed the distracted look on his face.

Freddie finished his own plate, and likewise set it in the sink. As he stood, he noticed the full erection which had wormed its way out of his boxers during breakfast, and now caught on the edge of his t-shirt, projecting up and forward at a 45-degree angle. He ignored it as he grabbed his glass from the table, going to the fridge for more orange juice. He let it playfully bounce against counter-edges as he moved, the light taps and vibrations making him quiver. It HAD to be bigger.

As he opened the fridge, he spotted the jar of meatballs. His father had already left.. He glanced at the clock. It was actually a half-hour earlier than his usual alarm setting. He had time.

He grabbed a fork, spearing one, then a second sphere of meat. As he stood with the fridge door open, he debated it, but decided against heating them up. He took a big bite, chewing and swallowing both in a matter of seconds. The rich flavor rolled over his tongue. The chilled meat seemed a bit stiff...

This led him to the other chilled meat in the room. Even through his arousal, he groaned at that punny mental leap, but he couldn't stop himself. He quickly sealed the jar and closed the refrigerator, tossing the fork across the room, barely making it into the sink, before both hands were locked onto his body. He stumbled into the living room, mirroring his father's fevered path from the night before as he groped, tugged, and caressed his dick and balls.

He stumbled backwards, falling back over the arm of the sofa, splaying out across the cushions. As he worked his meat with one hand, his other roamed across the contours of his torso, feeling the muscular bulges and scratchy patches of hair which hadn't been there the day before. His spare hand went immediately to his throat and jaw, feeling the stubble he'd discovered earlier, noting the density, length, and even the way the muscles of his neck and jaw seemed more prominent.

Surprisingly, he came quickly, but that wasn't the end of it. For another twenty minutes, he groped, pinched, switched hands, caressed, tugged, and stimulated himself every way he knew how to do without assistance, causing three more orgasms in short order, until finally his drive was sated, and he drifted off.

---

The alarm went off, and Fred's head popped up.

"Aww, man!" It was a dream.

He looked down at himself, nude, on the couch, covered in his own jism. He ran up the hall, through his bedroom, and stared at himself in the mirror. He was bigger; there was no other justification, and he WAS hairier. He jumped on the scale, ignoring the plop of jism that slid down his flaccid dick and landed on the glass of the indicator.

Ten pounds.

It wasn't a dream!

---

After a long shower, during which he got hard again, but only in a regular fashion, he dressed, carefully, wearing baggier-than-usual clothes, including the team jacket he rarely wore otherwise. He stared at his reflection long and hard, ignoring his half-hard dick, trying to figure out every little change. His hair, somehow, had grown out, by at least a half-inch, while his beard was thicker than ever, and had grown what would normally take a guy a couple days, (and would otherwise take HIM a week), in only a few minutes, as it was even longer than he'd noticed at the breakfast table.

He'd taken care of this as quickly as he could using the electric razor, but even after five minutes going over the same areas over and over, he was still left with a darker shadow than he'd ever seen on himself before today. He pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, looking down in amazement at the way his pecs (HIS pecs!) came together with a crevice between them, as well as the new, thicker hair which had spread up his chest, creating a broad patch in the middle that spread around both nipples.

His dick was hard in his pants, but hidden under the sag of his jacket. Freddie climbed into his car, noting that he had to slide the seat back a notch, and headed to school.

This should be interesting..

[scot158f]

Very cool addition to a great series! I'm glad to see this story line continue further. Keep up the great work!

Hooray! I'm very glad to see you continuing this great series. Keep it up!

[anthrowolfdude]

can't wait to read the next installment!!

[Synth.x]

Oohh, I was waiting for this... As short as I felt this chapter was, beggars certainly can't be choosers. Take as long as you want to tell your story; I can tell it's going to be a good one.

[photoguy]

Woof. I made the mistake of reading this in the office... BIG mistake. I have a book in my lap now.

More!

[Stoneman]

Yeah, I wish Manlion hadn't disappeared without finishing this.

[manlion]

I'm still around, just been busy. Forgot about this story, actually. (oops!) I'm getting back around to finals again (graduating this year so it's the last ditch effort.. finding work, place to live post-school, etc..), but I'll try to throw some time into this when I can.

[Maverick0095875]

Originally Posted by manlion

I'm still around, just been busy. Forgot about this story, actually. (oops!) I'm getting back around to finals again (graduating this year so it's the last ditch effort.. finding work, place to live post-school, etc..), but I'll try to throw some time into this when I can.

take your time your life is more important than the peoples need of your work. Great art takes time.

[nypup2train]

Originally Posted by Maverick0095875

take your time your life is more important than the peoples need of your work. Great art takes time.

Agreed, in fact that should really go without saying.

(But, it doesn't, so it's good to say it from time to time -- I don't think anyone here wants any of our generous authors to feel overwhelmed or pressured by their eager readers. Nobody wins if authors are turned off to contributing because it stops being enjoyable, and starts to feel like a chore!)

However, that being said, any author might find themselves admitting:

Originally Posted by manlion

Forgot about this story, actually. (oops!)

...So it can't hurt to occasionally make a gentle, encouraging request for more of a series, if you found it especially interesting/exciting. Let your favorite authors know where they'll find a guaranteed audience for their work!

(I once browbeat Rowan into posting a chapter of "The Jascian's Toy", mainly by noting that it'd been a full calendar year since the previous installment. And I'm pretty sure he forgave me for it. But I don't generally recommend being as pushy as I am! )

P.S> I say "admitting" only in fun, manlion, not as any sort of accusation -- no offense or insult intended!

[debate1]

Great story!

[dcpa22]

Please comtinue this series! Forgot about it until it got bumped....

[musclemonkey]

Originally Posted by dcpa22

Please comtinue this series! Forgot about it until it got bumped....

I forgot about this one, too! It is a great story that I would love to see continued! I hate being left hanging.

[nypup2train]

Originally Posted by musclemonkey

I hate being left hanging.

...Which is an odd quality, in a monkey!

[musclemonkey]

Originally Posted by nypup2train

...Which is an odd quality, in a monkey!

Ooh ooh ah ah!!

[nypup2train]

Gooood monkey! ...Monkey wanna banana?