The Entity and Stephen Lewis Part 8

[JP71]

[COLOR=#808080]THE ENTITY &[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#808080]STEPHEN LEWIS[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]By JP71[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]Part 8[/COLOR]

[COLOR=yellow]Part 1[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 2[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 3[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 4[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 5[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 6[/COLOR]
[COLOR=yellow]Part 7[/COLOR]

There?s nothing much to say about my afternoon spent with Chris Saul. I found him far too arrogant and obnoxious to get along with, and I think he spent way too much time by himself. As a result he?d developed the kind of ?living alone? eccentricities you might expect from a person twice his age. But he took my measurements and I was so astounded by each and every one of them, that I found myself apologising to him time and time again for the erection I fought so hard not to come out in. But it was near-impossible to fight the feeling of getting so turned-on by my new dimensions.

For a start, I?d gotten my neck measurement right: it was bang on 26 gorgeous inches. My arms fully flexed were a mouth-watering 33.5 inches, my legs above the knee at their widest point were an awesome 42 inches, my calves 28.5 inches, and my waist came in at just 33 inches. That made my chest-to-waist ratio come in at almost 3:1, since my chest was a whopping 97 inches fully expanded.

I was truly a muscle monster. Chris was so thorough in his cataloguing of my physical dimensions, that he even measured the width of my arse, shoulders, traps, and even my dick (to ensure I?d have enough room in the crotch). Semi-flaccid, as I was throughout the measuring session, my dick came in at just under 12 inches. It was beer can-thick, too. But I knew that this was just the beginning. I had a lot of growing to do, literally everywhere.

Fortunately Chris had several items in reserve for several of his clients, some of whom had already grown beyond these outfits, and so they hung inside their plastic sheaths, lost to the world and mostly forgotten. Most of them could be re-worked, and I expected many of the suits and various garments should have been collected by Gary, although Chris told me he hadn?t seen or heard of him in months.

I left, that afternoon, with three two-piece suits, nine button-up shirts (four of which were casual-enough to be seen out clubbing in), three pairs of stretch-denim jeans (one black, two indigo, four form-fitting polo shirts, and enough gym-gear to get me through plenty of workouts to come. The suits on their own were the most-expensive items, costing 2,300 Euros EACH. Depending on how my next growth-spurt went I could have them altered to cater for my increased size, but Chris was so expensive, I reckoned I?d have to find an alternative to his services sooner rather than later. I left his home, that day, having parted with a cheque made out to him for a heart-stopping 11,700 Euros. No wonder he had solid gold taps in his bathroom.

I drove back to town, just a stop-off really, and bought a brand new scale, one that went up to 550lbs, therefore there was no fear of me squashing it flat. That set me back another 100 Euros. I also needed new ties to match the suits (which Chris didn?t cater for), as well as new gym footwear, and shoes for work. I found a big and tall store that catered for the shoes, as well as new underwear (functional but hardly flattering or designer). All in all one hour in the city centre put another 877.99 on my VISA. I shuddered to think what my next monthly statement would be like. At least I?d look decent enough trying not to do the muscle-man?s waddle to the office come Monday. I?d received a text from Shirley informing me that half of our floor was re-opening a week before the other half. That meant we?d be back at the office this coming Monday, instead of the following one (as I?d hoped). To be honest, I couldn?t care less if I never went back to work. I was enjoying my unplanned free-time, time in which to get to know my new body and what it could accomplish. Time, indeed, to get so horny that I?d have to relieve myself every other hour. Time in which I didn?t have to be stuck behind a desk for hours at a time. But I had bills to pay.... LOTS of them.

Between Thursday and Saturday of that week, I spent as much time as I could at Apollo?s Gym, testing the new limits of my way-more-massive and way-stronger muscle-bod. I hadn?t really been there long enough (prior to my latest growth-spurt) in order to make friends, even ones in passing that you really only cared to pass the time of day with out of civility. This was one of the most hardcore bodybuilding gyms in Ireland, and so no one really had time to chat or to socialise, although it invariably went on from time-to-time.

But I was now the star attraction. My massive muscles, not to mention my new platinum blonde hairdo (blonde or blond, I really don?t give a fuck about which is male and which is female to be honest), were total head-turners. Guys were suddenly lining up to spot me, and although I didn?t really want to waste a single moment of my training by providing spots to others, I decided to be as congenial as I could in my home away from home, for the sake of not being designated the gym?s resident grouch. However, as soon as I felt I was being taken for granted, I would swiftly put guys straight. I was here to get big... no... HUGE, and my time to do so was as limited as the next guy?s. I was just better at it and looked a lot better doing it. Yeah, I?d become a self-centred cocky bodybuilder, but hey... I was a super-huge muscle-hunk, now. I was hardly going to ?tiptoe through the tulips? just for the sake of not stepping on a delicate head or two.


I looked forward to Saturday because Ray was coming over (although he had yet to confirm that he?d be coming). I couldn?t wait to see the look on his face when he saw me for the first time, almost twice as big as I?d been when last he was at the apartment. Since my ?upgrade? via the muscular psychic version of a dying Sean McInerney covering me in his dream-fashioned spunk which opened my mind to paranormal sensitivities, I was more perceptive of movements on the psychic ether than I?d ever been since all this first began for me back in January. A brilliant piece of deduction on my part concluded that Marek?s manifestations ? during which my muscles grew ? coincided with Gary working out across the road. Ergo, Marek was trapped in that pendant he wore, but somehow, when his concentration would become focused on his training, Marek was able to slip free, perhaps drawn back to Xavier Heights because his ashes were hidden somewhere here, and could act like a magnetic lodestone for a short time.

It had to be true. It made sense, too. If Lance had been using Marek?s ashes in this way, then Marek would be drawn up through me via Lance?s apartment below, before fizzing his translucent way back to Gary (post workout) over at Mass Central. And now that Gary was indeed living at the gym, Marek found he could manifest himself at the apartment almost nightly. There was a difference in his behaviour, now, in relation to how he?d previously interacted with me. I wanted more growth from him, knowing that Gary, once my ultimate muscle fantasy made flesh, would be further depleted. I didn?t hate Gary whatsoever. I just think it was time he handed over the muscle crown to someone more deserving of it... namely me, myself and I.

But Marek would shake his ghostly head, grinning somewhat serenely, as if to reassure me that I shouldn?t try to grow any further for a while, until life and the world around me had a chance to adjust and get used to my ever-increasing dimensions. I guessed he was right. There was another change in him, too. He only ever manifested in the bedroom, fading in and out of dark corners, unless I attempted to take hold of the basement key and uncover its secrets, finally. That was when he?d get mad and bar me from leaving the apartment. Every time he did this, he seemed to shrink in size, growing younger and younger, as if ghosts could reverse-age themselves.

?But I?m doing this for you, Marek. The more I understand about what went on here, the better I?ll be able to make use of it, for our mutual benefits.? Well, I wasn?t being entirely honest with him, and a frown twisting his face into a rictus of despair and indignation was enough to convince me that he didn?t believe me. I wanted to trap him here forever, if possible, so that my muscle-growth would truly be limitless. But I had to be realistic. Marek was growing weaker with each manifestation. Gary, who somehow owned Marek in that pendant he wore, had obviously been using Marek?s soul energy in this way for years. That?s how he got big. I still had no idea where the pendant came from, or how Gary came to possess it.

But I decided, there and then, to get that pendant for myself. Gary was still bigger than I was, and for the time being it would stay that way, so long as Marek refused to transfer more muscle from one man to the next. I still longed to find out what had turned Lance into the monster he?d become. I hardly think that Marek could have been totally responsible for that. There was an echo of another life-force in this place, possibly that of Xavier himself, although I believed it was long-past a point whereby it could manifest itself and take on a human-like shape. But sometimes it clawed at the dark side of my mind and left a clammy feeling there that I didn?t much care for. That?s why I needed to get to the basement, although Marek was insistent I avoid that place entirely.

And so the entity and I developed a new mutual understanding. I didn?t tread on its toes and it remained positively civil. I wanted more muscle, but for the time being I?d have to build it the old-fashioned way, by eating big, getting enough sleep, and pumping lots and lots of heavy iron. I could do that... of course I could.

Saturday morning dropped a bombshell on my lap. I?d been training at Apollo?s right up to closing time and my chest felt like it was on fire. I wanted to have the biggest pecs possible for when Ray came over, and so I worked them to death more than any other muscle group that week. I woke up to lots of sunshine filtering through my bedroom curtains, and so I jumped up and drew them back so that I could open up the glass doors to my veranda. I wanted to see if there was any activity from Gary across the road. But Mass Central looked empty, although that wasn?t unusual in itself for this early on a Saturday morning. But one place that was far from empty was the concourse to Xavier Heights. It was bustling with life. The residential parking lot was crammed with cars, many of them barely roadworthy from the looks of them. I also counted several large removal trucks, obviously laden down with furniture and other personal items. The African refugees had alighted on Xavier Heights at last. I counted at least fifty individuals, a lot of whom were children running around and making noise. Amongst the throng of new residents, Rita wheeled herself about in her chair, shaking hands and welcoming her new tenants. Oliver was around, too, although he preferred to watch the event unfold without getting involved. The boy was creepy; I?ll say that much for now.

There was another surprise waiting for me when I went into the living room. There was a pamphlet sticking out from under my front door. Oliver had obviously been this way once again, availing of this somewhat clandestine way of passing information to me. The pamphlet piqued my curiosity and so I stooped to retrieve it.

It was about the new tenants, or rather their former homeland. The tiny country of Masula in Southern Africa had been on the news in recent months. As I?d mentioned before, I knew a little about the atrocities that went on there. But I rarely paid the news any heed, to be honest. We never seem to get anything but bad news these days. That?s why I zone out completely. Maybe I should pay more attention to current events in future. So yeah, I knew a bit about Masula. But the pamphlet told me the rest. The former ruler, President M?lenghe, had been overthrown by General N?Kobu who had turned the place into an oil-rich dictatorship. Despite NATO?s intervention, the forces of N?Kobu had systematically slaughtered over a million people, and mutilated the genitals of several thousand women. America, Britain and France, to name but three, had had forces present in Masula for more than three months now, and already they?d made a lot of progress towards removing N?Kobu from power.

Recently Masula?s oil reserves had been destroyed by the General?s armies, rather than allow them to fall into foreign possession (he was a paranoid fucker, alright). Masula?s democratic neighbours had been denied trade with their more affluent neighbour for more than three decades, so when the time came to find homes for more than three million refugees, the three neighbouring countries closed their borders. As a result a more international solution had to be found. Ireland had agreed to accept five thousand displaced Masulan nationals (not five hundred as I?d originally thought), putting them up in holiday camps, unfinished housing estates left dormant by the credit crunch, and of course, Xavier Heights. I couldn?t fathom how much money the government would be paying Rita for letting out the apartment complex to fifty-plus Masulans, but she?d seemed pretty pleased about it (did our government even have that kind of money to spare?).

I had no problem with Xavier Heights taking these people in. I just hoped they wouldn?t turn out to be noisy neighbours.

Whilst I was in the shower, my phone buzzed a text alert. After I towelled my magnificent muscles dry I smiled with delight when I saw it was from Ray.

?Hey big man, got the entire day free. What say I high-tail it over to you for lunchtime, and then we can take all day (and all night ;-) getting to know each other better??

Hmm, I thought, considering my reply carefully. I wanted to get back to the gym for a couple of hours, just to work my arms a bit (or maybe a lot). But I could easily be there and back in time for Ray?s arrival. I texted back:

?No problem. Look forward to it. I have to get to the gym ?cos these muscles ain?t gonna grow themselves. But I should be back in time for lunch. Head on over for about 1:30pm. BTW, you?re gonna faint when you see how much bigger I?ve gotten.?

The response he sent back was immediate and it made me smile more broadly:

?WTF??????? Dick is hard and wet for you now.?

I also grew instantly hard when I read his response, pre suddenly water-falling out of my piss-slit in viscid cords. I snapped a pic of one of my new 33.5-inch boulder biceps ? the corded muscles bold and sharp beneath papery but silken skin, veins on top of veins, totally power-packed with size, shape and definition ? and texted it to him. Less than a minute later I received another reply:

?Is that for fucking real??????????????????? Gonna cum buckets.?

To which I was brusque in my reply:

?Don?t cum now. I command you to stay dry. I want ALL your spunk in me tonight!!!!!! THAT?S AN ORDER, PRIVATE!!!!!!!!!?

My enormous cock would more than likely prove too big for Ray?s anus, and so I grew excited at the prospect of being on the receiving end. I liked the idea of the massive muscle-god dominated anally by the smaller man. Now my precum was gushing out of my foot-long cock. My sack of nuts bulged tight as its cargo swelled and ripened with seed. I couldn?t go to the gym like this. I was now on the verge of blowing a massive load.

The reply I got back was enough to make me completely lose any self-control I tried to maintain at this point:

?YESSIR, WILL DO ANYTING YOU SAEW< NO SPLOOGDE TIL MY PRECUM DSRIZZLES ALL OVER YUR ENORMUS MUSSELS?

He was obviously wanking with one hand while texting with the other. It drove me over the edge and I shot a massive load right there in my living room.

?UNNNNNNNGGGHHHHHHHHHH,? I grunted, over and over, my creamy seed erupting from my rod with ultimate abandon. And it seemed to go on and on and on, as though my gonads had no limit to how much they could produce. I did my best to aim the discharge to a non-essential part of the room, but because my massively muscular body was shuddering from head to toe, I couldn?t maintain the control I would have liked in order to keep the mess to a minimum. By the time my climax subsided, my sofa, coffee-table, ceiling, as well as two of my walls, four hanging pictures, and my potted three-foot high cactus were slick with my jizz.

?Bollocks!? The room looked and smelt like a gay sauna club. I couldn?t have Ray over and have him sit on a sofa that was now sodden with cum. Just how much had I produced? My dick went flaccid once again and my nuts went to sleep inside their hairy crib. I swear to you I could feel them filling up with more cr?me almost immediately after this most prodigious discharge.

I blasted out a double-bi pose to the mirror over my mantelpiece, and immediately shot erect once again when I saw how massive and defined my arm cannonballs had become. There was no need to go back to the gym to work them further. Until I could grow them further, they couldn?t look or get any better than they were at this point in time.

?Looks like I stay home to clean up my little accident,? I decided, with something of an upside-down smile. Of course ?little? was the understatement of the year.




I had the place looking and smelling pretty good by the time Ray showed up. The buzz-com down at the main gate had since been fixed (shock surprise!!!), so I was able to buzz Ray in, although I?m sure he had to fight his way through the throng of people and lorries still taking up space in the concourse. Considering they were refugees, the new tenants obviously had a lot of stuff to off-load. By the time he made it to my apartment:

I greeted him at the front door, and he immediately almost fainted when he saw me. I had chosen my wardrobe with great care, electing to wear one of my older shirts ? a blue and white chequered affair ? that just about fit me (I would keep my new expensive gear for work and for going out on the tear). The shirt I opted to wear for Ray?s visit had been quite roomy back when I weighed a modest 257. But I?d had to modify it quite a bit to get it to fit me. For one, I completely removed the sleeves and collar, giving it a somewhat ?redneck? look, like something I?d wear if I worked as a farmhand on a big ranch, or something like that (a longstanding fantasy of mine). I also had to cut five-inch slits down from each arm hole so that I?d actually be able to put my arms through them (something I just about managed). The now collarless ?grandfather? neckline showed off my neck and much of my traps quite superbly, and because it was impossible to get buttons to button-holes across my titanic pec-meats, I was content to leave it unbuttoned. The fabric hung from my pecs with an utter failure to conceal much of their mass, along with a gorgeous deep valley between them that was deep enough to lose a hand in. I?d also managed to squeeze into an old pair of beige cargo-shorts, but I had to cut slits up each leg in order to get my huge muscle-thighs through them. But despite that I had no trouble buttoning them at the waist, I opted to keep the waistband unbuttoned along with two of the buttons on the fly. I wasn?t wearing any underwear so it was extra sexy of me to show off a bit of my fly fringe. My bush was on show and giving off its perfume.

I was ripped and pumped beyond belief, simply from doing housework. My body was huge and ready to go, and my apartment had never looked so clean.

?Well, what d?ya think, hot stuff?? I gently but firmly pulled Ray indoors and hugged him tightly, but not enough to break his back or anything. At this size I could now squat 1400lbs for 6 reps, leg-press 2300lbs for thirty reps, and I reckoned I could easily lift a small car. Because I was a good deal taller than him, now, his face soon became engulfed in my pecs. Both of us grew instantly hard, although I didn?t want either or both us to mindlessly cum soon after his arrival. We had a whole day and night for that.

?We need to practice self-control, Raymond,? I cautioned, eventually releasing him so that he could catch his breath.

?Yeah,? he agreed, panting for dear life. I could almost hear his heart pounding fast inside his chest. My own chest wasn?t far off from that, either.

?How did you.... how did you...?? He couldn?t find the words as he struggled to come down from a sexual heat haze that had him sweating within a minute of his arrival.

?I had a growth-spurt,? I replied simply, shrugging my shoulders as though I hadn?t a clue. My muscles almost boomed with movement from a simple shrug. Behind the open curtain of my shirt my pecs heaved and rippled in response.

Ray, clad in a nice black polo-shirt and Levi?s 501s (which couldn't hide the bulge of his trouser snake) made his way to my bathroom to splash cold water on his face, and probably to pinch himself to ensure he wasn?t dreaming.


I went to my oven to check on lunch. The timing of Ray's arrival couldn't have been better. The chicken was roasted to a turn and looked mouth-watering, surrounded by so many appetising veggies. By the time Ray had composed himself enough to gaze at me without spilling his eager seed, I was already filling our lunch plates with food.

"Wow, that smells and looks as amazing as its chef," Ray enthusiastically remarked, as he took his place at the table.

"Why thank you, Ray. You never know, but I might make someone a great wife, one day." I really wanted to bounce my pecs in time to my remark, but that would have had us both erect once again, and so I opted to wiggle my eyebrows instead.

Before we commenced to eat, I took a bottle of Mo?t and Chandon out of the fridge (it had been a moving-in present from Shirley that I?d more or less forgotten about). I popped the cork and poured out two equal measures into the flutes that came with the bottle.

?Wow, is this a special occasion or something?? Ray was really into this, and he?d been beaming with delight continuously since becoming seated.

?Of course it is. Our first meal together in my apartment,? I explained, sitting down opposite the very handsome stud.

?Correction... our second meal together. Three if you count the bacon and eggs I cooked that first time. But that paled in comparison to your tuna casserole.?

?For leftovers, maybe. It doesn?t count,? I amicably explained, ?This is the real deal, freshly prepared this morning.? I raised my champagne glass to chink against his.

?To Sean,? I toasted.

?Yeah, I guess that?s fitting,? Ray replied. And so we tucked into our food.

?This gravy is fantastic,? he added, about thirty seconds into the lunch.

?Homemade, too... well, almost. You can thank Jamie Oliver for it. I just followed his instructions. I love my food, so I want it to both taste great and be beneficial to my bodybuilding lifestyle.? I sounded like an infomercial.

?Yeah, I can see that. Wow, you gave me all the skin off the chicken. You want me fat or something?? Ray shovelled a forkful of crispy chicken skin into his gorgeous, sexy mouth, and for a split second I felt jealous of him. Before I was a bodybuilder, the skin off the chicken was my favourite part of the bird. I was content, however, to eat just the lean white meat. Besides, my plate was plentifully loaded-up with equal amounts of lean white meat, and roasted vegetables.

?That depends on whether or not it adds to or detracts from how hot you are,? I amusingly retorted.

?Maybe I should lay off the chicken skin then,? my boyfriend-in-waiting returned, moving the skin to the side of his plate before adding the last of the gravy to the remainder of his food.

And so we got through our delicious lunch of roast chicken, parsnips and scalloped potatoes, and then managed to get through most of the champagne. With food in our stomachs, the champagne had only a marginal effect on our inhibitions, but I would be lying if I said it didn?t make me a little tipsy.

With lunch out of the way, we moved through to the living room. I?d gotten gravy all down the front of my shirt, although my pecs had caught most of it (I?d have to get used to their promontory nature in relation to gravies and sauces in future), and so Ray insisted that I lose the shirt, as he didn?t want to smell chicken off me later on. Totally shirtless, now, my body bulging all over with super-thick cords of exquisite hunk-flesh, we got comfy on the sofa (I?d used a carpet shampooer to clean the cum off the cushions, and I?d turned the damp side to the bottom long before Ray arrived).

Ray wedged himself between my arm and my left pectoral, although from the way I was sitting, the chest muscles bunched together like great meaty slabs powered by a thousand coiled springs. The upper portion of my muscle-tit now obscured my chin and mouth from view. We adjusted ourselves as best we could, so that Ray could bring his sex-hungry lips to mine for a long, drawn-out kiss, although his mouth kept slipping down onto my chest cleavage, where he?d set his tongue a-roaming. I didn?t mind. I wanted my pecs even bigger than this, so if Ray and I became a regular couple, he?d have to learn how to use mountaineering equipment.

We kissed for what seemed like ages. Testing out what we could do against what my muscles fought against us attempting to do, was kind of fun in itself. My upper body was so hugely muscular ? even more so because of all the work I?d put into my chest over the past few days ? that it was something of a struggle for Ray to kiss me for more than thirty seconds before a pec-flex would send him toppling away from me. I tried not to flex as we kissed, but you try doing that with muscles so given over to muscle hypertrophy.... or even ultra-trophy. How would Ray even manage to get a snog in when I was ten times the size I was at this point? He?d have to change his name to Ray ?Phileas Fogg? McInerney, I mused.

?I want you to punch me in the face with your muscle-tits,? came a somewhat strange request from Ray, some minutes into our sofa vs. muscle vs. kissing afternoon excesses.

?That?s got to be the strangest request I?ve ever heard,? I responded, my lust about to spill out of the tank I?d built in my mind to contain it.

?Do it, please,? implored Ray, and I was a little disappointed, to be honest, as I really wanted him to be the dominant male (just as an experiment, I guess). And so I obliged. I waited until Ray?s lips were about to kiss my nipple before I expelled a great deal of energy through the tensing of my pectoral muscles. A miniature Tsunami of power belted forth, catching Ray under the chin with enough force to eject him away from me. He didn?t quite fall onto the floor, and it would have been downright disastrous if any part of my sexy guest had connected with my coffee table in a way that would have been harmful to his health.

?Wow, did that hurt?? I was decidedly curious. My pecs were huge and powerful, and so they had to hurt.

?Not as much as I?d hoped they would,? he replied, rubbing the lower part of his face with his fingers. Then he added: ?But they?ll probably re-locate my jaw to another part of my head when they?re ten times the size they are now.?

Hearing that made my dick finally destroy the front of my cargoes, as a huge mass of expanding flesh, both the dick itself, and its spherical bedfellows, destroyed the fly and swelled massively with both blood and cr?me. I leaned back on the sofa, my insanely-veined arms resting across the back, thrusting my hips forwards as if to aid in the inflation of my almost obscenely-weighty fuck-junk.

?Jesus, how big do those fuckers get?? Ray was amazed as he knelt before me, almost shuddering with apprehension, I?d guessed, as my meat swelled bigger and longer than I?d ever seen it before. Finally my pink and purple flagpole reached its full size, and it was easily over a foot in length, and so, so stiff. I?d never seen it so stiff before. But to help celebrate its size and sheer presence in our lives, I brought my forearms upright on either side of me, and squeezed two eye-popping bowling-ball-sized biceps into being.

?Take your pick,? I grunted lustily, as I fought against the sheer animal desire to pick Ray up, slam him against the nearest hard surface, and then pole him so hard that he?d be wearing his lower intestines for a necklace. There was no way in hell that a human male was capable of suffering the full extent of my ?cock-a saur?. Fortunately for the both of us, Ray suddenly alighted upon my crotch and his head began bobbing up and down on the first five or so inches of my flagpole. Instinct took over on his part, and I set his entire body undulating as I tried to thrust as much meat into his mouth and down his throat as he could physically cater for. He?d obviously had good experience doing this, because his gagging reflex hardly acknowledged the fact that he was attempting to deep-throat one of the biggest dicks on the planet. I also really got off to the fact that Ray actually wanted me bigger, if his comment about the size of my chest was really him speaking, and not only his lust.

He sucked me off for such a long time, alternating between taking in as much length as he could, licking the entire length of the shaft ? which often dried up the spit in his mouth so that he?d have to bring more up ? and playfully and carefully using his teeth to lightly nip at the sensitive tissue under the rim of my bell-end. Sometimes he would leave my dick completely, and focus on my nut-sack, deftly taking each orange-sized ball into his mouth and to give it a good spit-n?-polish. Really, he was amazing at this, and I gasped and moaned throughout, several times verging on the cusp of ejaculation, but somehow I managed to hold it back. Don?t ask me how I managed this, but I knew I wouldn?t be able to keep it up indefinitely.

Whilst Ray?s mouth and my balls got it together, my dick spilled precum like it was going out of fashion. My couch was soon sodden with it where I sat, and Ray had to remove his shirt, which had now also become a means to absorb my slick nectar. He drank as much as he could, which in my mind had him permanently ?marked? with my flavours. Precum now also found places to well up in between the deep cuts of my ab-meats. Occasionally Ray?s fingers would find their way there, dipping into these pools in order to further paint himself in my juice. He was ravenous, and his appetite for all things ?me? was of the most insatiable kind. I wanted to please him more and more. I wanted to get bigger and bigger and bigger. No fucking limits. I wanted to swell into the most massive giant of muscle in all creation, so that Ray, attentive and loyal, diminished to a mere speck before me.

I wished that Marek would grow me some more, right now. But my Sean-enhanced ?psychic sense? picked up nothing on its radar. Ray had worked his way out of his clothes by now, and was scaling Mt Muscle in search of its greatest prize. He attempted to ?set down? on my pole, but it was awkward on the sofa, considering so much space was taken up by my bulk-muscle. But his sheer lust for me was overwhelming, and his enthusiasm and determination had to be commended. My cock decided to applaud by showering him with spunk.

I grunted and yelled all at once, although I was silently dismayed that my eruption had been badly-timed. The torrent gushed upwards, lashing against Ray?s invading body with enough force to make him rear back in astonishment. He managed to stand shakily before me as my storm-force deluge pulverised him like a fire-hose?s equivalent. As I came and came and then came some more, Ray caught as much jizz in his hands as he could manage, and drank it with an appetite my chicken could never have satiated.

I was still cumming and cumming when Ray fell upon me once more, this time dropping heavily to his knees so that he could take hold of my pole in both hands, as if to lessen its convulsions so he could drink with greater ease. And he drank... boy... it seemed like my nuts had an inexhaustible supply of spunk. It was the spunk of a huge bodybuilder, protein I reckoned (in retrospect) I could ill-afford to lose.

Finally...

Ray collapsed in a shuddering heap beside me and began to beat his meat vigorously. I watched, mildly amused by the modest spray that jerked out of his slit, but I caught all of it in my hand and soon had it inside me. With our orgasms spent, we cuddled together on my once-again soiled sofa, both of our bodies, warm and sticky with mostly my fluids. That?s when I heard something amazing:

?I... I... love you, Stephen,? Ray gasped as he cuddled into me even further. I enveloped him in a powerful arm and stroked the small of his back with my thumb. Already panting and still trembling from sexual bliss, he gasped in response to my touch.

?I think we?re made for each other,? I remarked, not yet able to admit that I loved him back. He would be my first real boyfriend, considering that my three months with Gary back in nought six could never have blossomed into anything full-time, not while he still had a wedding ring on his finger.

I decided to follow up that my remark with a question:

?You really want me to get bigger??

?Of course,? he replied, licking some missed cum off the side of my pec. He made an exaggerated ?slurp? noise and then followed it up with ?Om nom nom nom!?

?Well then, I may have to increase my food and supplement bill in order to help with further growth. Maybe your band will get as big as U2, one day, and you can buy me my very own supplement store.?

?Well we?re aiming to go all the way with this.? He moved across me to kiss both of my nipples in turn. I bounced my pecs more lightly this time, just for fun. Our organs began to stir once again.

?Have you guys got a name yet?? My thumb on his back had now been replaced by two fingers attempting to gain entry to the foyer of his arse crack.

?How does Goliath sound??

?In honour of me?? Then I thought, ?Isn?t that name already taken?? My new boyfriend relaxed his anus to better allow me entry. Wow, was it possible he?d have it raining Stephen?s Seed within minutes of the previous torrent?

?Only in East Asia, Brazil, and Canada. The Corkonian Goliath Band will kick the ass of the others.?

?Er... the music industry doesn?t work like that, honey. Every heard of copyright??

?Okay then, how about we call ourselves Big Steve?s Muscle-Mad Fuck-Sluts??

?With a name like that, you?re bound to win a million Grammies,? I joked.

We played around for a bit, but this time kept our passions from boiling over. Finally, after another while, I decided we should both hit the shower. Ray grew excited again. But when we attempted to get into the thing as a twosome, my shoulder width totally quashed that idea. Oh well, one day I?d own a bigger shower. It occurred to me that I?d outgrow this place, eventually. But that was a concern for another day.

Ray had every intention of staying over. But since I didn?t have a washing machine in the apartment, we were going to have to get his precum-soiled garments to the laundrette. But there was no hurry. I had a tonne of old clothes that no longer fitted me. Ray could help himself. In fact, I decided he could take whatever he wanted, and that pleased him no end.

By early evening we decided we were hungry again. I considered leftovers from lunch. But then:

?Fuck it; you?re not having leftovers again. Want to order a pizza??

?I thought you only ate healthy food, Goliath.? If Ray decided to call me that from now on, I really didn?t mind. It was close enough to ?Golias? to remind me that I was now way larger than Craig Golias could ever be.

?Well, I can burn off a kingsize pizza in a couple of hours in the gym. No sweat, now that I have a superman?s metabolism.? It was true. Although I stuck to a mostly super-healthy diet specifically designed to grow my body as huge as it was capable of becoming, I could easily afford to chow down on a pizza once a week and suffer no ill-effects whatsoever.

?Awesome. Let?s order the biggest bastard of a pizza we can,? said Ray, using his iPhone to locate a suitable pizzeria. That was when the strangest thing happened. My own iPhone suddenly chimed into life, the theme from John Carpenter?s Halloween my current choice of downloaded ring-tone. An unknown number appeared on the screen.

?Uh... hello??

?Hey there, big n? sexy muscle-man. My favourite customer by far, oh yes!?

?Er... who is this??

?It?s Bruno, from the restaurant you like so much. I gotta big surprise for you.?

?Oh...er...hi, Bruno... great that you called me back. But this isn?t a good time right now,? I awkwardly intoned. Of course this suddenly had Ray?s interest piqued, and he ear-wigged on the conversation with an acceptable level of suspicion.

?Hey, it?s cold down at your gate. I?m getting as cold as this pizza I brought for us. Chef was throwing it out, but it?s good. Eighteen inches of sexy pepperoni, cheese, and tomato. I got off work half hour ago and decide to come here to see big muscle Stephen. You gave me address and phone number, remember?? His Italian wasn?t as dominant as his Corkonian. What was it about this place that simply sucked all other accents right out of people that came to live and work here?

?There?s an eighteen-inch Little Caesar?s special waiting for us down at the main gate,? I briefly explained to Ray, who was about to make his call.

?Did he come in a time-travelling DeLorean, by any chance? That was quick. I was just about to call that place.? Ray then whistled those most memorable of theme-tune notes from the Twilight Zone, but believe me when I say this, the night was about to get a whole lot weirder.


To be Continued....Click HERE

[umlerian49]

Oh, now, this is just the cat's pajamas. This is by far the best chapter yet, not least of which because we get figures! I know from experience that you take a big risk when you start rattling of specific body dimensions, especially when you've worked hard to build a believable premise (as if anything on this forum could be believed) because if you're not careful, you can shatter that carefully constructed verisimilitude.

Well, come on, let's have the next chapter already!

[arpeejay]

Oops! I thought I'd replied already but see that Umlerian beat me to the punch! Yes, figures, yay! They certainly punch my buttons!

And they're pretty close to what I'd come up with, which would have been: chest 90, upper arms 36, waist 45, quads 50, neck and calves probably 34 or so. (In other words, chest = 20% of weight, arms = 40% of chest, waist = 50% of chest, quads = 10% bigger than waist, neck and calves = 95% of arms.)

I look forward to Stephen's next growth spurt!

xoxo

Richard

[philat99]

I'm intrigued by your twists and turns. Look forward to discovering the contents of the basement. How will the influx of Masulanese figure into the plot, or maybe just a diversion! Most enjoyable!!!