In Corpore Sano - Part 11

[tekuno]

For some reason, I felt like writing again tonight, and not only did I finish another part of this but also the next part of Caveman. Maybe it's because I have some other things which are really boring which I should be working on instead. That kind of motivation leads to some really amazing accomplishments.

Anyway, here we go. Still no revelations about what's Really Going On, but that doesn't seem to matter very much to anyone here as long as the characters are (a) getting really big and/or (b) having lots of sex.

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In Corpore Sano
Part 11

This story has been completed. Content warnings and general description are included with the prologue, general commentary is in the comments following the epilogue.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

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It was another 10 days before I saw Paul again.

On the one hand, it shouldn't have mattered. I had been pushed out of my celibacy -- not that I had been exactly shy and inhibited beforehand -- and could probably have taught most of gay men in town a thing or two. My session with Paul was an X-rated learning experience. And the energy rush and growth from the session had been persistant. I was so turned on -- almost all the time -- that it required quite a bit of mental discipline to keep going to work and doing my job.

Oddly enough, though, it wasn't difficult to abstain. I found that, if anything, it was easier than ever to resist the customers hitting on me. The largest and strongest of them didn't even compare to me, let alone Paul. And I knew from my discreet shower-gazing at the gym that I was about as likely to win the lottery as find a customer who was hung like Paul.

Or me. As mentioned, something about my session with Paul stayed with me. My penis had already been growing, but now it went into overdrive, as did my muscles. I went to the gym every single day for a few hours of weights. I had been bulging and borderline-obscene before, but I was growing quickly. Not quite fast enough for people to see it happening while I worked out in my gradually-tearing shirt and shorts, but every day I was measurably larger than the day before. At the end of the 10 days, I was a match for Paul. I had to buy new workout gear halfway through -- and new work clothing twice, which was hot but annoying.

Annoying because -- although I no longer felt any urge to take bar patrons home for sex -- I was sexually turbocharged, and resented the time taken away from physical sensations for shopping. I had purchased more full-length mirrors, and passed hours each day flexing and masturbating in front of them, and fantasizing about Paul.

Like Paul had been, I was now probably about as big as any man had ever been. Certainly I was bigger than any bodybuilder I ever heard of -- even if you believed the inflated measurements they posted. And bigger than any porn star, too. My upper arms were a touch over 32 inches around, with forearms which looked to be somewhere a bit below 20 (I really didn't care enough to measure). My chest reached 90 inches, which is an enormous size (Schwarzenegger in his prime was still in the low-to-mid 70s) but it didn't seem quite as gargantuan as it was because I was now slightly over seven feet tall; a ridiculous height for a bodybuilder. On the other hand, my waist remained at 32; my torso had one of the most dramatic flares possible.

I had to do some emergency tailoring on my slacks, because I could hardly wait around for a tailor and any pair of off-the-rack pants large enough to hold my massive thighs (41 inches each -- as large as some men's chests) tended to be impractically loose around the lower legs (nearly 20-inch calves, as far as I could tell -- I had always had good legs). But more importantly, my cock was now well over a foot long, and growing. Every day, my erection seemed to be longer and thicker, and I never really seemed to go totally soft. Each morning I woke up soaked with semen and with morning wood. Fortunately, pants in "my size" tended to have lots of spare material close to the waistband, but it wasn't distributed correctly for someone of my proportions and I might have had some discomfort if the sensations of the cloth pressing against my cock weren't so erotic.

Then again, practically everything was erotic to me at that point. I had never really considered eating an erotic act before; now oatmeal and a glass of orange juice for breakfast suggested things to me which I was just sane enough not to act on. Everyday objects made me horny through suggestions which seemed to enter my mind from nowhere -- doorframes, pillows, my cellphone. It's hardly a surprise that I was spending so much time jacking off in front of the mirrors. I had difficulties not doing the same thing at the gym, where my tight, nearly-tearing outfits did nothing to hide the size of my muscles or my genitals. Mostly I tried not to look at the gym mirrors any more than I absolutely had to -- I felt the need for workouts, and didn't want to be kicked out. Even though I got very little challenge from even the heaviest of the weights the gym could provide, lifting them was like scratching an itch. And when I got home, I took great pleasure in bursting the seams on my workout shirts in the mirror (and on camera).

I made a point of driving past Paul's house every time I went to the gym or to work. Given how delirious I was getting for more sex with the man, I was actually surprised that I wasn't more actively stalking him. But somehow I just couldn't. I didn't want to be like the watchers outside my house. But if I saw him on the street, then of course I would be justified in stopping to talk... and, of course, we had only one thing to talk about. And his house would be just around the corner if I found him there.

But I didn't see him, at least until I was on my way back from my (early-ish) shift at the bar in the early evening on the tenth day. It was almost like he was waiting for me. He was standing in front of his house, looking in my direction, and beckoned to me as I drove up. All fourteen inches of my hard cock throbbed when I saw him, and no wonder. Even from a distance, I could see that he had grown again.

When I got out of my car and walked to him, the impression was confirmed; redoubled, even. Paul was a monster. I was, as mentioned, seven feet tall, but Paul was still taller than me by several inches at a minimum. And he was not merely bigger than me but bigger in proportions as well. He was wearing a shirt -- it was difficult to imagine how he could even have put it on -- which covered most of his torso, but his arms were absolutely incredible. I thought I was almost superhumanly huge in that respect at 32 inches, but Paul's arms were much, much larger than mine. If they weren't 40 inches, they must have been getting close. His neck, which was thicker around than his head by quite a bit, was being swallowed by his traps. And the straining of the buttons on his shirt showed that his chest and back must have been similarly impressive.

I wasn't quite sure how to open the conversation, but Paul saved me from having to try. As soon as I was within reach, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house. Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't have resisted. Paul's strength was absolutely incredible. I was getting so large and strong that I routinely broke small machines if I wasn't careful, but Paul seemed to have the strength of a bulldozer, or maybe the kind of crushing equipment junkyards use on cars. I was amazed he didn't break the door off its hinges.

In the entryway of the house, Paul tore his shirt off -- literally -- and ripped off his pants, belt and all, as though they were made of tissue paper. He was slightly more careful with my pants, but still broke the buckle of my belt as he undressed me from the waist down. And then, without any further ceremony, or even removing my shirt, he was pushing his cock up my ass.

Although I thought the previous time that I had learned to take a cock without pain, this was something completely different. Paul's cock, in the few moments I had had to observe before he started fucking me, was now impossibly large. It had to be impossible for something that big -- it had to be nearly two feet long, now, and thicker around than a beer can -- to get completely hard and stand upright on its own to the degree it had. For one thing, the erection would drain all the blood out of Paul's body. But it was there, veiny and insanely powerful-looking, and when it went up my ass I nearly blacked out at first.

Once again the pain subsided gradually, as Paul fucked like a madman, or maybe some kind of animal. It seemed to go on forever; in the half-lit hallway Paul grunted and I gradually began to moan as the veins on his unbelievable shaft rubbed against me as they went in and out. It was certainly half an hour before Paul finally came; I may have been mistaken, but it felt as though he got even bigger inside me towards the end.

Part 12

[convolution]

That was great
This is starting to feel like Lovecraft style madness... with sex
very hot.