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SUMMARY: Mere moments after feasting on enough food to feed at basketball team, Miles finds himself facing the team themselves, and their unrelenting teasing turns intense when the captain, Jasper, takes an interest in Miles's new diet.
âDidnât expect to see you so soon, Mâliege,â said Ty, the fast-food worker at the Burger Palace drive-thru. He smiled down at Miles with a grin that showed off his sharp incisors. Miles knew exactly what Ty was laughing at: the very same jock that had drive up to this window an hour ago to receive a massive, gluttonous order of burgers, was inexplicably back with a guilty look on his face, a jersey stained with grease, and a belly so suddenly bloated that it crammed up against the steering wheel. Â A pig, basically.
âUmm hey, yeah, Iâm back. SomethingâŚhappened,â Miles started to lie. Heâd only had a few minutes to figure out what to say between repeating the order to the drive-thru intercom, and pulling up to pay, and try as he might, he couldnât seem to break through the fog filling his brain. Visions fogged his mind. Visions of what heâd done with the police officer that had pulled him over, unfairly detained him, and forced him to eat bite after bite of the feast until it was all crammed in his straining gut. That feast was meant for a team of hungry basketball players, yet Ty had eaten every burger, nugget, fry, and even the shakes. He had no idea how it was possible, but he suspected it had everything to do with the people-pleasing tendencies that had been rammed into him on account of his status as team benchwarmer. The eating had felt like a sudden, secret talent, and the more he pushed his limit, the better heâd felt. Even realizing this turned his cock hard again, and heâd barely managed to shove it down when it was his turn to pull up.
So, no, he didnât have a lie quite ready for Ty in the drive-thru window. âSomethingâŚhappened to the food,â he repeated. Was it vanished? Stolen? Had it just spontaneously flown out of the car? He gulped. âItâs gone.â
Tyâs grin wrestled itself into a self-serious line that matched Milesâ dire tone. âYeah, buddy, I know.â And then Ty past Milesâ car, to where only a thin border of trees separated this lot, and the one next to it, which is where Miles had gotten stuffed by the officer. And, to Miles horror, the trees provided almost no cover. The lot of strikingly visible, bathed in the red overhead light of the Burger Palaceâs neon sign.
Miles gulped again, unable to look back at Ty. He was determined not to confirm his worst fearâthat Ty had seen every single moment of the entire humiliating ordealâyet that damn smile was audible in Tyâs words as he said, âSame as last time. Park in the lot and weâll bring the bags out to stuff in your trunk.â
Miles was furious that even this small jab got his cock to twitch. What was going on with him? He pulled up, texted his team an update that he was nearly arrived at the house that they were hanging out at, the ignored their outraged responses while he focused on trying to breath. Was he going to be okay, after all that food? How many calories could a body possibly absorb all at once? If he was worried before about the extra weight that had recently gathered in his ass, he was definitely worried now. If he was smart he would have left the fast food joint right then and there, never letting another morsel of food into his car, but instead he popped the trunk as Ty and his coworkers processed out to him holding up big, heavy bags of food. Once inside, they closed the trunk and slapped it, whooping like theyâd spanked Milesâs actual ass, and he drove off with a burning face.
Drove off very slowly. Officer Hunter was bound to be around here still. Or maybe he had vanished forever. Miles wondered if theyâd ever see each other again. The wheel began to drift in his daydreaming, and he corrected it with a tug. Tempting fate twice in one night was insane, and plus he had a feast to deliver.
The team had gathered after the game at one of the captainâs frat houses, a usual spot for their late-night debauchery when they didnât have an early practice the next morning. As Miles entered, cheers went up throughout the first floor, and a seemingly endless parade of massive boys rushed to snatch the food from his arms. They dumped it all out on a large table in the living room that had been an arena for been pong moments ago, sorting through it all like it was treasure until they found what theyâd requested. Miles was nervous theyâd notice his belly under his crossed arms, but instead the team was delighted that not a single thing had been forgotten. They chanted Milesâ name as they dispersed back to their various activities, and for just a moment Miles forgot his aching gut.
Then, behind him, came an amused voice, âBenchwarmer, do we need to get you a bigger uniform?â
It was Jasper, one of the captains. The one who was a brother at this frat, in fact. He was tall, like Miles, but carved with a wicked sharpness. He looked so striking, Miles had always thought, watching the guy race across the court. Evidently, Jasper had taken his own turn watching Miles back. Right now, his eyes were clearly watching Milesâ ass.
âLeft it in the dryer too long,â Miles said with a grin he hoped seemed casual. There was nothing casual about the blush in his cheeks, though.
âWhat took you so long, Benchy?â Jasper said, poking at Miles. âWe almost had to order pizza.â Jasper wagged his phone back and forth, and Miles saw a delivery app with a full cart moments away from being ordered.
âSorry, I stayed a bit late cleaning up,â Miles offered.
âAnd?â
âAndâŚshooting free throws?â said Miles.
Jasperâs captain-brain took over, and he gave Miles a slap on the back. âAtta boy. Love the dedication, man, but you almost caused a mutiny. These boys are hungry. Hey, speaking of, you got yourself something, right? You should eat fast. That stuffs no good when its cold.â
Jasper was flipping open his wallet to reimburse Miles with cash, but the captain glanced up when Miles couldnât answer. Had he ordered for himself again? Heâd just repeated everything, mindlessly, but surely heâd know not to bother with those extra few burgers, right?
âUmm, IâŚ.â Miles blanched. Luckily, he was saved from answering when a few of the other boysâKit and Thomasâbutted into the conversation to ask Jasp how to hook up the game system below the living roomâs massive TV.  Evidently a huge tournament was about to begin. âYou play, Benchwarmer?â they asked Miles.
âIâm good,â Miles muttered. He rarely turned down a chance to prove himself, but he was genuinely worried that if he sat down, heâd just fall asleep. The sooner he found an excuse to leave, the better.
âGo figure, he wants to just hang out here, ogling at Jasper and picking at all the fatboy food,â Kit laughed. Thomas punched his arm.
âHey, be chill, Kit. The kid doesnât get the same gametime,â Thomas defended, but even that sounded like a diss. Jasper scowled. âActually, boys, Miles stayed after to shoot free throws. Kit, you missed two this game, didnât you? Maybe you want to go up against our rookie tomorrow, and see how really belongs on that court?â
Chastised, Kit scoffed.
âAnd Thomas, it wasnât long ago that you were the chubby little benchwarmer watching the men do their work,â Jasper continued. The whole thing felt like a very intense joke, and it only built Milesâs respect for Jasper as a captain. That is, until Jasper said, âAnd besides, Miles here hasnât even had a bite. Look, his meals right there. He hasnât even touched it.â
There was in fact one bag left on the table full of shiny wrappers and discarded sauce packets. Milesâs meal, that he had in fact ordered. At Jasperâs urging, he reached for it. It was so far from him he had to lean on the table, putting a pleasant pressure on his full belly. Behind him, Kit and Thomas whistled, and Kit said, âOh, damn look at that thang, benchwarmer!â
Thomas had his own snide remark. âNo wonder Jasper likes to keep you right where he can see that ass. Itâs almost big enough for him toââ Thomas cut off as Jasper knocked him on the back of the head, but it didnât end the teasing. The older boys took full advantage of the show, even going as far as to rub their hands on Milesâs bent-over bottom. Then Kit yanked down on the waistband, exposing one of Milesâs soft cheeks, and the slap was so loud that the entire living room turned in surprise. Or had Milesâs yelped? He didnât know as he right himself, yanking up his shorts. Then Jasper let out a wry laughânot at Miles but at the room full of gawkers, turning the joke of the moment back on their leering curiosity.
âDonât mind them,â Jasper said to just Miles, waving off Kit and Thomas. âThey joke around. Seriously, the comments donât mean a thing.â But even as he said it, Jasperâs face had taken on a bit of a flush, too. He excused himself, leaving Miles alone at the table. Finally. This was his chance to leave, but something about the strange interaction with Jasper had sparked intrigue in his mind. Was Jasper really like that?
Miles got his answer a few hours later. Most of the team had trickled home, but the video game tournament raged on. All the remaining eyes in the room were glued to the tiny war being waged between the remaining players, including Miles. He had hovered by the beer pong table most of the night, relishing the slow sense of relief that started to spread from his gut as his body gradually churned his binge into fat. Occasionally, his eyes had begun to flick to the bag of fast food heâd abandoned. It wasnât that he was hungry, or horny. He was justâŚcurious. But there was no way he was eating that shit.
Maybe, just maybe, he could have a bite, right?
No, what was he thinking! He shook his head, wondering at his own greed. But it sort of made sense, in a way, didnât it? Heâd been filled within an inch of his life, and now even the slightest room gained by his digestion was bound to feel significant. He wasnât hungry, his body just didnât know any better. And, if he was honest, it was the same with his cock. The pleasure had been so complete when he came hands-free in Officer Hunterâs lap that now, hours later, an ache of emptiness pulled at his balls.
Maybe just a nibble.
Miles gingerly slid back to his spot at the table, leaned over, and hovered a hand over the burger.
âThat stuffs no good when itâs cold. I told you that.â
Miles stiffened, but didnât turn around. He was certain Officer Hunter was back, standing behind him in his too-tight uniform. He could feel the manâs massive muscles closing in for a hug. But then, to Milesâs surprise, it was only Jasper to reach around and place a wad of cash in Milesâs pocket.
âSorry, forgot to give this to you before,â Jasper said like the motion was ever-so-casual, yet they both felt Jasperâs hand graze up the slight puff of Milesâs love handles. When neither of them flinched, which was customary anytime the athletes joking jabs got a little too tender on accident, Jasper slid a little closer.
âYou know, I hadnât really noticed until the other boys mentioned it, I swear I hadnât,â Jasper said, âBut that ass, manâŚwhat are you doing at the gym? Squats?â
Miles shook his head, but Jasper was keeping his tone perfectly cool, like this was a casual discussion between two bros despite the clear sexual tension building. Jasperâs hands danced along Milesâs straining waistband.
âCâmon, donât hold out on me, Benchy. Whatâs your secret? Split lunges?â
Then Jasperâs hand found its way into cupping Milesâs ass for a clinical squeeze. Miles didnât yelp this time. He held his breath and locked his eyes on the video games, willing the rest of the room to do the same.
âOh,â Jasper chuckled. He was whispering now, right into Milesâs ear. âI know your secret. Food. That ass isnât only muscle, is it?â There was no time to answer as Jasper gently massaged at Milesâs ass, as if continuing some sort inspection. Whatever he found, he seemed to want more and more of, and Milesâs found himself breathless with the heady rush of another jock playing with his fat ass. Jasper must have noticedâor maybe he truly was going to get what he wanted one way or another from his growing benchwarmerâbecause he gently jerked down Milesâs shorts. Then he laid his hand on the tender print where Miles had been spanked. The touch was soft and suddenly intimate, marking a clear transition between Jasperâs bro façade, and whatever this next phase was.
Slowly, Jasper pushed on the small of Milesâs back, leaning him over the table ever so slightly. Then Jasper lowered himself to his knees, so quietly that for a moment Miles was sure the captain had drifted away. But then came a kiss, right on Milesâs cheek. And another. And another. Soft, quiet kisses that blended into the din of activity in the room. It was the strangest, most exciting feeling in the world, Miles thought, even as his mind tried not to panic. If anyone glanced back, theyâd see him standing at the table, leaned forward slightly, but because of the way the table was positioned in the room, Jasper was completely blocked from view. He seemed to know this. Maybe heâd even done this before. Either way, there was nothing but confidence on Jasperâs tongue as it gently dragged up the curve of Miles ass before slipping into the crack and making a wet path right into his hole.
Miles stifled a moan. He was beyond glad heâd showered up with the team despite never breaking a sweat, but he was aware that the last time heâd sweat had been even more recent, in the back of Officer Hunterâs fan. Heâd eaten so much, and so fast, that heâd gathered a slight sheen all over. Did Jasper care? Of course Jasper didnât care. Jasper, the team captain, had bent him over in a room full of jocks, and was now tongue fucking him with a practiced rigor that nearly shot moan after moan out of Milesâ wobbling lips.
And that wasnât all. Jasperâs hands were getting bold, squeezing over Milesâs ass, to his hips, and finally to his cock. Miles groaned at the firm grip being applied through the slippery fabric of his short. The threat of another climax began to tickle him somewhere deep inside. About as deep as Jasperâs roaming tongue. Miles tried to fight it, but the moment Jasperâs other hand worked up to squeeze his belly, he knew this was a fight he was bound to lose. Jasper, too, felt the reaction. As he squeezed at the taught, giggling fat that had begun to gather around Milesâs middle, precum gushed from Milesâs cock. In minutes, the front of the benchwarmerâs shorts were damp from the inside out.
It was almost too much pleasure, too fast, and Miles nearly lost himself to it right then and there. But then the worst possible thing happened. Right under his captains grip, Miles felt his stomach let out a loud growl.
âThat you, Benchwarmer? Just eat your food already,â called Kit from the couch, sparing only a brief glance back at Miles. It was enough to get Jasper to duck down, extracting both his hands and tongue covertly.
âI will,â Miles shot back at Kit, making no move towards the food before him. To his surprise, it was being unwrapped anyways, but Jasperâs reaching hand. What was the captain up to, now? Miles stood up straight, turning to face the other guy knelt behind him, but then Jasper popped up, too.
âEyes ahead,â he ordered, and Miles pivoted back towards the video game tournament.
âMe too, Benchy. You had yourself a little snack before this, didnât you?
Miles nodded.
âThought so. But youâre still hungry, arenât you?â
Still wasnât quite the right way of putting it. For a while the hunger had abated completely, but now that it was back, it was back. Milesâs tummy let out another growl.
He nodded.
âIf youâre hungry, you should eat,â Jasper whispered, raising a fist of fries up to Milesâs face. If he let this happen, he was a goner for sure. He knew that now after how far things got with Officer Hunter. But if he didnât give in, someone was sure to spot the odd scene stretching out at the table.
âLet me in, Benchy,â Jasper whispered, gently pressing the fires to Milesâs lips. And, down below, something else pressed to a different opening of Miles. A pressure, intense but pleasant, taking advantage of the slick spit on his asshole, driving into him with a soft, expanding pressure. Was this really happening? Was Miles about to get fed and fucked at the same time? His mind couldnât handle jumping between the two opposite pressures, and in the end he opened upâboth above and belowâat the exact same time. Salty fries crammed down his throat as a fat cock stretched into his matching fat ass.
âGood booooyyyy, Benchy,â Jasper growled, helping Miles chew by holding his jaw shut until the fries were swallowed. âGoood booooyyyy, piggy. Now grab that burgerââ
But the fries had been enough. Combined with the fucking, and the intensity of the act behind the backs of the team, Milesâs was hopelessly evacuating his balls yet again into the fabric of his shorts. And, once again, not a hand could be found jacking him off. It had just happened, based on his bodyâs will but in defiance of his own mind.
And, of course, heâd let out a devastatingly audible moan. The sudden quiet of the room told him exactly what he was going to see when he opened his eyes, so for another few seconds he kept his eyes clamped shut in rejection of reality. Everyone was staring at him. He knew it. Even the game had been paused. Â
âDamn, Jasper,â Thomas said from the couch. âAgain?â
âSorry,â Jasper said, a little sheepish, but with a boyish mischievousness that spoke to some sort of pattern. Pattern of what? This? Miles cracked an eye open. The other boys were, in fact, all turned towards him and Jasper at the table. To few seemed utterly horrified, but most of the older boys were give Jasper knowing smirks.
âHey, I have an idea,â Jasper said, slowly resuming the fucking of Milesâs ass. âMaybe we should order that pizza after all. Whoâs in?â
Hands across the room shot up. The few boys who hesitated seemed to immediately succumb to the effects of peer pressure, and then all eyes were back on Miles.
âHow about it, Benchy?â Jasper said with a snide mock in his voice as he pulled out of Milesâs ass with a luxuriating, excruciating slowness. As he sunk back in at the same speed, he asked, âGot room for more?â
Muscles shaking, Miles raised his hand, bringing the teamâs decision to unanimity.
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's Note: yeah..........sorry, I got captivated with this one and banged out part II right away....but I am not so sure what happens in part III yet. Maybe I will switch to MGB, but sometime tells me I'll be back with Miles and the team soon no matter what.
SUMMARY: As a benchwarmer on his basketball team, Miles has lots to prove, but when a late-night errand to pick up fast food for the team ends with Miles getting pulled over with a car full of burgers, he'll have to prove exactly how far his own capacity goes to please a kinky cop.
It was hard work being a benchwarmer, but someone had to do it, and that someone was Miles. While his more athletically blessed teammates raced up and down the basketball court in front of him, Miles sat at the very edge of the bench, clapping and cheering, doing his best to act like he was part of the team, desperate to be included. But no, even home games like tonight mostly saw Miles sitting on his ass. His âfat fucking assâ as the other guys liked to joke in the shower.
But this season, Miles was gonna prove he was more than oogling-material during water breaks. Thatâs why when the rest of the team headed out to party tonight at one of the captainâs frat houses, Miles stayed behind in the showers, slipped his barely-wrinkled uniform back on, and crept out to the court for some free throughs. He figured he wouldnât be missed, but then he got the text:
âYo, Benchwarmer, you coming? Hit up Burger Palace on the way, weâre hungry. Hold up weâre gonna send what we want.â And then came a massive, incoherent list of elaborate fast-food orders in the team group chat. The messages came fast and frequent, blowing up Milesâs phone all the out to the lone car in the parking lot, and not stopping until he was pulling up to the massive, neon signs of Burger Palace. Â
âBURGER PALACE, YOUR ROYAL FEAST AWAITS!â crackled a deep voice on the intercom. âWHATâS CAN WE SERVE YOU, MâLEIGE?â
Miles sighed. All at once he felt how pathetic he was. The teamâs personal grunt, barely setting foot on the court all night only to end up shuttling his more hard-working teammates greasy burgers and fries. And the worse part was that Miles found he didnât really care. He should be mad, or at least resentful, but something about this errand excited him. The team was waiting for him, werenât they? So, cheerily, Miles leaned out of his window and rattled off the long, strange order, speaking for five minutes straight until finally the speaker cracked: âFUCKâI MEAN, SORRY, UMM. IS THATâŚIS THAT ALL, MâLEIGE?â
âOh, wait, I forgot about myself!â Miles cleared his throat and, a bit inspired by the teamâs greed, added another combo order. Maybe he could earn a few more âfat assâ comments tonight. Some guys were even getting handsy, and the thought of them really giving his assâwhich was quite niceâa squeeze filled Milesâs head with a light buzz.
âPULL UP TO THE FIRST WINDOW,â the speaker crackled, and Miles swore he heard people laughing, but when he pulled up it was just a lone boy sliding back the glass to take Milesâs credit card.
âYou nearly cleaned us out,â the boy said with a grin, handing Miles back his card. The comment took Miles by surprise and caused him to lookâreally lookâat the boy. He was college-aged, too, and shorter than Miles (everyone was, mostly), but he had a scruffy handsomeness to him that caused Miles to stare a second too long before blurting, âOh, itâs not all for me.â
The boy nodded, clearly taking Milesâs awkward pause as confirmation of the opposite. âReally,â Miles insisted, but the boy put on his best drive-through smile and said, âWould you mind pulling into one of the spots ahead? Itâs going to take us a while to get it all together.â A laugh tugged at the boyâs smile, and Miles heard a few out-of-sight coworkers hollering in the background. He had to end this interaction ASAP, so without a word he pulled ahead to sit, pouting, in the parking lot.
How long could it possibly take? Miles was getting badgered by the team in the group chat. He felt again a sense of embarrassment, but this time when he did so, he thought of the cute boy from the drive-thru window, and the strangest thing happened. Miles got hard.
âWhat the fuck?â Miles poked at his cock in his basketball shorts, even fingering a tiny damp spot at the tip. Then someone knocked on the window, and Miles lurched into a more modest posture.
âDonât get too excited. Cops keep an eye on this lot late at night.â It was the boy, of course. His nametag said just âTy.â And had he just boldly reference Milesâs accidental masturbation? Milesâs face burned, but his boner did not go away. âJust give me the food,â he muttered, sticking his hand out the window.
âHungry boy,â Ty whistled. âAfraid it wonât fit this way. Youâre gonna have to take it from behind.â
Miles blinked at Ty. He was acutely aware of how he was supposed to reactâoutrage, because what was this little punk doing hitting on a basketball player? But thatâs not what happened. He just blinked.
âYour trunk?â Ty clarified. âWe can just put the bags in your trunk?â
Stiff and wood, Miles slowly turned to look further out the window, and a few other guys stood, holding up heavy bags of food already splotchy with grease. It was way too much to pass through the window. Defeated, Miles popped the trunk and felt his face turn red as his car filled with the smell of fries and burgers, from the back to the front.
âAnd donât forget about yourself, king,â Ty said with a wink, handling Miles one final bag directly. His personal order. Miles crushed it into his lap, happy for something to hide his raging hardon with, which was was absolutely certain Ty had been eyeing while this entire embarrassing ordeal took place.
âDonât forget about yourself, king,â Miles mocked to himself as soon as his window was up. He dug his hand into the bag, fishing for a burger, while his tires squealed into a tight turn towards the exit. His phone continued to blow up as his team whined at him to hurry, and Miles slapped the device off the dash. Even for a benchwarmer, this was a new low.
But it wasnât the last low of the night.
Miles took the turn out of the parking lot a bit too tight, perhaps because heâd been looking at his phone, perhaps because of the burger in his other hand. Whatever the reason, he his wheels jolted up over the curb and he clipped the very edge of the BURGER PALACE sign. The neon lights flickered, but barely. A lucky break. Miles could feel the eyes of Ty and his coworkers laughing at him, so he jammed his foot against the gas and rumbled off. He could deal with karma later.
Then, in the rearview mirror, came police lights.
No, Miles would deal with the karma right now.
In an empty lot, Miles pulled over and prepared for the worst. Was that a hit and run? Heâd barely hit the sign! A million excuses ran through his mind as the officer waltzed up to his window, but it was only when the beam of the flashlight glared down at him did Miles finally think about dropping the burger. By then it was too late.
âHungry, boy?â said a gruff voice.Â
Miles gulped. âYes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir. I mean, Iâm sorry, Sir.â
The police officer was invisible behind the bright light, but he sounded not much older than Miles. And the long pause that stretched out next felt significant, like something was being decided upon.
âLicense and registration, please,â the officer commanded. âThat is, if you can take a break from your little snack.â
Miles jammed the burger back into its bag and fumbled for the documents. Handing them over, there was another long pause, and then the officer said, âYouâve been drinking tonight?â
âNo, Sir.â
âJust eating?â
Was eating and driving illegal or something? âI just had one bite,â he grumbled.
âDo you know why I pulled you over, then?â asked the cop.
Miles considered bluffing, but he was almost certain the cop had seen him hit the sign. His heart hammered as he considered confessing, but would that be worse? And he certainly couldnât say nothing, but nothing is exactly what came out of his mouth when he opened it to defend himself. The cop took a step back.
âIâm going to need you to step out of the car, young man.â
Fuck. Now Miles had done it. He brushed crumbs from his basketball uniform and, trying not to let the reveal of his height seem intimidating, he stepped from the car with his hands up. Finally the officer lowered the flashlight, and Miles was surprised to see a man looking back at him at eye level. Just as tall. Even taller, maybe. And something click.
I know this guy, Miles thought. A rival player, or something. Now the scene made sense. Miles was still in his uniform, after all, and the smirk on the officerâs chiseled jaw was totally amused. Maybe even a little vindictive.
âMind if I take a look in the back?â the officer asked. His badge and ID named him as OFFICER HUNTER. Go figure.
âThereâs nothing back there, Sir.â
âDoesnât look like nothing,â Office Hunter said.
âCome on,â Miles whined. âLook, Iâm sorry about the sign, I was just checking my phone andâŚâ
Officer Miles narrowed his eyes, and then said, âI think this might be easier if you wait in the vehicle.â
âDonât have to ask me twice,â Miles said, going to get back in, but then a strong hand came down on his shoulder. âMy vehicle,â the officer said, turning Miles towards a massive van with the lights still spinning. Milesâs feet turned clumsy beneath him as he shuffled around the vanâs back. Doors swung open revealing padded benches. When Miles hesitated, the same hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. In his ear, Officer Hunterâs voice was a commanding murmur.
âDonât worry, just standard procedure. Youâll be on your way in no time. Itâs easier if you just let me do my job.â
Miles didnât even have the guts to roll his eyes. He just slumped into van. That was better than being made to stand on the side of the road as people passed by. Someone would recognize him. Come to think of it, the red neon light of BURGER PALACE was so close that it still shined down at him. He was sure Ty and his friends were watching through the thin veil of trees that separated the two lots.
Officer Hunterâs search did not last long. His footsteps crunched quickly back towards the van, slowing as he reached the spread doors. Then he filled Miles view, his broad shoulders blocking out the red neon light and casting a shadow into the vanâs spacious rear.
âThis ainât nothing,â Officer Hunter said, hoisting up the bags and bags of fast food. The smell wafted into the van, making Milesâs mouth water. Â The bags were gingerly placed at his feet, with a new command: âOpen them up.â
âJesus, really? Itâs just junk food, okay? You saw me at the drive-thru. What do you think Iâm doing, sneaking drugs inside of milk shakes?â
There was a long pause that gave Miles ample time to absorb exactly how muscular Officer Hunter was beneath his uniform. Then, the police officer switched off his radio and said, âIt looks like our system is taking a bit to return your records. We might be here a while.â
Miles sputtered. âBut you didnât even checkââ
âSometimes it takes a while. No way to know how long weâll be here. Maybe you should let your teammates know.â
That was odd. Miles hadnât mentioned his teammates, but Office Hunter seemed to know exactly where all this food was meant to go. The theory of revenge surfaced in Milesâ anxiety yet again. Dully, he realized his phone was somewhere deep in his car, thrown there by none other than himself, minutes ago. Â He shrugged helplessly, and Office Hunter grinned. âIâm sure theyâll understand. But itâd be a shame for all this food to get cold while we wait.â Officer Hunter leaned forward and clamped his hands onto their side of the vanâs doorway, infusing his casual speech with a distinct air of authority as he said, âSo, why donât you get back to that snack?â
Miles wasnât about to protest. Something about the intensity in the officerâs eyes terrified and intrigued him, not because of the manâs uniform, but because of the way his uniform seemed to completely vanish from him as a different, more diabolical person took over. The clipped commands were gone, and now Hunter was smiling. There was a sweet, encouraging edge in his voice that felt both dangerous and irresistible.
Miles grabbed up the nearest bag, reached in, and found a burger identical to the one heâd been cramming in his mouth when he got pulled over. He took a big bite, then another, finishing the snack with a few, luxuriously slow chews, never once dropping eye contact with Hunter. If this sicko wanted to torture Miles, Miles was going to take all the fun out of it by pretending to be completely at ease. At least thatâs what he told himself.
âHave another,â Hunter ordered.
Miles let his hand pick up the next item. Chicken nuggets, a whole dozen of them. He popped them in, making easy work of the tiny bites, and then he snatched up a sweating cup of soda to wash it all back.
âPlayed hard today?â Hunter asked, nodding at the next item. A double cheeseburger, Miles discovered, as it reached his lips just in time to cut off a response. Hunter spoke for both of them. âOr did you spend the whole game on that pretty ass of yours, watching the real athletes run back and forth? Must be hard to keep up, eating like a jock but not getting the same work out. You sure you should be eating such greasy, fattening food?â
Miles grinned. Was he enjoying this little game? Absurd as it was, it wasnât exactly the torture he suspected his captor imagined it might be. Who would feel tortured by eating a few burgers? Hell, this was what he was planning anyways. And yet, it wasnât the food but the words that seemed to fill Milesâ gut, expanding in him with their dark meanings as he pushed in the final bite of the double cheeseburger.
âIâm part of the team,â he protested while he chewed.
âYeah, you sure are,â Hunter said, leaning further into the van so that he could snatch up a bag himself. Was he going to eat, too? Miles was almost disappointed until Hunter tossed him another wrapped burger.
âSo you can catch,â Hunter mused. Â Dutifully, Miles spread the greasy paper open and picked up the burger. He definitely didnât need to eat this, but another glance at Hunterâs eyes told him, actually, he definitely did. It would only take a few more bites. What was the harm? But then Hunter passed him the next thing. A rattling box of fries. Then it was another box of nuggets. And finally, a milkshake sticky with melted whipped cream, which finally slowed Miles down.
âItâs hard work, picking up the slack for your greedy teammates, but hey, thatâs what benchwarmers are for, right?â Hunter asked in a low, slippery voice as he slid into the bench across from Miles so that the two large men sat knee-to-knee. âYour teammates are lucky. If I hadnât pulled you over, theyâd be filled up with all this junk by now. Lucky for them, youâre here to do it for them.â
Miles coughed as the thick milkshake froze to the back of his throat. He was definitely full now, past the point of finding any of this easy. Each gulp of ice cream sent chills all of his body, adding a new, uncomfortable tightness to his abs.
âWhy are you doing this?â Miles spat.
The question took Hunter by surprise, but just for a second. Then he leaned forward the last few inches between them, so they were face to face. Miles wondered if they were about to kiss, but then he felt a sudden coolness breath across his crotch. With a well-practiced motion, Hunter hand yanked down Milesâ basketball shorts, pulled the elastic waist up and over the hardest cock Miles had ever seen. It shivered, the tip shiny with precum, and it was another second before Miles realized it was his. Heâd been shamelessly hard this whole time. He couldnât figure out what was worse: that he didnât know why he was hard, or that he hadnât even noticed.
It didnât matter. The sudden vulnerability took all the resistance out of him. His brain switched into a new modeâsomething even less than offâas he gazed into Hunterâs smug, domineering gaze.
âDamn, youâre really hungry,â Hunter said, and he didnât mean hungry. He meant hard, and eager, and humiliated, or whatever this strange limbo was that had Miles so trapped. But then Milesâs hands riffled around in the nearby bags as if he were hungry, and it was like succumbing to a spell. Hunter said it, and Miles knew it was true. When the next burger rushed to his lips, he barely felt any resistance at all.
âGood boy,â Hunter whispered, sitting back and letting the elastic band hook below Milesâs aching balls. It was such a shockâboth the motion and the pleasant feeling praiseâthat Miles whimpered, fighting off an orgasm that nearly took him completely by surprise. Hunter froze, eyes wide with wonder, the Dom act momentarily shaken off as he watched Miles struggle against his own urges. Vaguely Miles thought it was a good thing there wasnât a hint of judgement in Hunterâs eyes because thatâs exactly what would have pushed him over the edge. But no, Hunter was genuinely confused, just like Miles, and the moment passed. Miles held himself together, but now a wicked curl snuck into Hunterâs lips.
âGoodâŚâ he said slowly, testing the word slowly like a punch winding up to Boy. Miles winced, anticipating the rush, but Hunter held back. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with this new tool. As he committed Miles to chowing through the next massive bag, he used his praise sparingly, saved for moments just before Miles was sure he couldnât take another bite. Then Hunter would lean forward, and marvel at how much Miles had consumed, and whisper good, thatâs really good. Youâre a champ.
Soon, there was only one bag left. Miles slumped back, feeling like he was about to burst. He was done. He couldnât take one more bite, nor one more second of mindless eating. The pleasure was overwhelming him, causing him to drift out of the moment, but Hunter dragged him back with by finally, finally placing a hand on his knee. This whole time they had barely touched, and the pressure of the manâs large hand reordered Milesâ bloated brain.
âLook what youâve done to yourself,â Hunter said, amused. Miles slowly looked down, past his heaving pecs, to where his own hands had absently pulled at the fabric of his jersey. It was the tight kindâall the tighter thanks to the pudge Miles had packed on all season from barely moving from the benchâand now it hugged tightly against a horribly swollen gut totally devoid of Milesâ faded abs.
âWhat the fuck,â Miles said, more amazed than horrified, but his attempt to sit himself up was in vain. The weight of the gut was disorienting, more and more flesh revealing itself as the jersey rode up irreversibly.
âAnd thereâs just one bag left,â Hunter purred.
âNo, no way,â Miles whined. How much had he eaten? Six burgers? Seven? Thatâs just when he lost count, and the wrappers strewn across the floor indicated heâd been losing count for quite some time.
âAwww, thatâs a shame,â Hunter said, ignoring Milesâs protests and peeking. âThis bag is just milkshakes and ice cream, but it looks like you let everything melt.â
Milesâs head spun. Thank god, he thought. Itâs melted. Iâm done. Now if he could only heave himself up, he could put this confusing experience behind him and start the hard work of running off all these calories before tomorrowâs practice. And heâd never return to Burger Palace so long as he lived.
âHere, let me help,â Hunter said. He awkwardly scooted behind Miles, wedging the bloated jock up just enough to nearly get upright, but the hard bulge of his new gut shoved him back down. His core was totally useless, trapping him between the officerâs thick thighs.
âPush me up,â Miles whined.
Hunter didnât even nudge him.
âHey,â Miles tries to twist over his shoulder as his own arms pressed uselessly against the thick trunks of Hunterâs leg. âHey, Iâm serious, Iâm not sure if I can get up by myselfââ
The cold edge of a cup met Milesâ lips, and before he could stop himself he was taking on a mouthful of cool, melted milkshake. Even melted, it was still thick, yet now it flowed fast into him giving him no choice but to swallow it as fast as possible to avoid ending up covered in the stuff. Still, a drop raced down his chin and dribbled onto his chest.
âUh oh, canât have that,â Hunter said, dabbing the spilled drop until it soaked into the uniform. âWouldnât want your mates to know what a mess youâve gotten yourself into.â
âPlease. Fuck. Please, I canât. Iâm so full. Sirââ
But the next milkshake was already ready. In fact, Hunter peeled off the lids of several melted treats with an experts hand, tipping them into Miles panting mouth one after the other with barely a break in between And, for the most part, Miles kept up with the sweet onslaught. How? He wasnât sure. He wasnât even thinking about it. He just knew that his only hope was to chug, and chug, and chug, and he told himself it was to protect his uniform and his dignity, but really something else was occurring with him.
All the food heâd eaten, every half-chewed bite, was dissolving down into a thick slurry of calories fused together with this new cement of sugar. It expanded in him quicker than he thought was possible, every tiny shred of space in his belly quickly thrust full of food, causing even the tiniest of air bubbles to slide up his undulating throat and whisk out of his lips in tiny, desperate burbs between gulps. This only freed up more room, which Hunter greedinly filled on Milesâ behalf, until suddenly the jock could take no more. Halfway through the final shake he began to squirm, his hands grasping desperately at the new, humiliating strangeness of his gut, his fingers drumming across the taught skin. His eyes were locked upwards, where Hunter leaned over him with a wolfish grin.
The officer spoke slow, never easing up, so that Miles heard every word through the clotted gulps of his own chugging.
âCareful, player. Youâre looking about ready to burst. No way a jock like you can eat this much and not stretch out that gut. You know this is just going to make you hungrier, right? Forever? Hey, look at me. I know you canât believe yourself. You canât believe you ate every bite. You canât believe you almost shot your load just because a man told you what a good boy you were, but that was before you let me dump another 10,000 calories down that greedy throat. And now youâre so hard youâre about to cum, but youâre probably regretting everything, right? But itâs confusing, because youâve never been more turned on, and thatâs why you regret it. Now you know you need this, more than anything, and even though you donât want to let yourself believe it, youâre about to have the most epic climax of your dumb, ex-jock existence.â
Miles shook his head. No, he pleaded with his eyes. Please, oh god, donât make me cum. But rather than forgo the final dregs of this final shake, he felt his jaw open wider. All the way. So that all Hunter had to do was tip the final massive cup completely upside down and let the last of the milkshake swirl directly down into Milesâ open throat.
Miles swallowed. Then, aghast at himself, he readied a final denial, but when he next opened his lips it was to let out a growing moan of ecstasy. There was nothing he could do against this feeling of fullness. It settled into him, right at the root of his pleasure, and even as he begged himself not to cum, the orgasm came for him completely.
âFuck, oh my god, I canât, I canât, oh god, oh gooood, oh itâs happening, fuck, Iâm gonnaâIâm gonna--!â
Miles came like a fountain, with an intensity that only added to the terrible pressure in filling his gut. It made it all the hotter. So did the fact that not once did Office Hunter touch Milesâ cock. Heâs simply found a way to push the buttons from within, and evidently those buttons were going to stay pushed for a very, very long time.
Back in his car, Miles barely fit behind the wheel. Officer Hunter had to lean over the stuffed jock to scoot the seat back. In doing so, he came back up with Milesâ long-lost phone.
âYour teammates are hungry,â Officer Hunter said with the same, gruff voice heâd started with at the top of their encounter. He flashed the phone to Miles. About a million texts had come in, but the most recent said: SHOULD WE JUST GET PIZZA DUDE? HELLO?
Officer Hunter tapped back a response then tossed the phone into Miles lap before turning on the heel of his boot and strutting back to the van. And that was it. The van drove off, leaving Miles to blink at his phone. The response said: âIâm on my way. Heading to Burger Palace right now.â Miles groaned. Then, with great effort, he yanked his uniform down over his swollen, cum-sticky gut, put the car in drive, and coaxed it back towards the neon lights.
Author Note: I know I said I'd work on MGB next and I will, I promise! But after making everyone wait so long for Hog Nog 3, I figured out that I should post stories as I write them. But MGB 3 is next! Thank you for your fun suggestions. Also, sorry for typos, I rushed this one out because I am excited to write part 2!
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For MGB are there any kinks you love writing? I'm all for cum inflation, its hot as hell. But anything that you are all for or dislike? I remember the old version well and you could play with some new kinks if you want in the new version to expand your horizons.
I was just rereading the two MGB chapters and I do like the cum inflation, but itâll probably minor between Aiden and Jack â always a step towards their growth. But maybe Iâll really flex that kink with another character, or a new story? Itâs on my list.
Iâm up for incorporating new kinks into MGB! The vignettes chapter in the old series had some hair growth kink, and a straight-to-gay moment.
But I am all ears if someone has more suggestions. ^~^
When might we see the continuation of MGB? Or any of your stories even?
I definitely check your tumblr daily đ
I think I am going to work on a new MG chapter next. Any scenarios come to mind? I have a few I want to try out -- new ones that weren't in the original. or should i get back to the original 'cannon'? aha
SUMMARY: Todd is nearly at the finish line, having kept his athletic build despite the copious treats flooding into him, but a final test might be more than he can handle as this holiday story draws to close. Read Part 1 and Part 2 first.
Has anyone ever been able to turn down a drink at a holiday party?
It was like Todd has been asked to do the impossible, and in a way, he had. Before his eyes, two of his coworkers have grown from trim gym bros to soft, submissive pigs. No, three, if Henry counted. But did Henry count? Toddâs long-term crush had blossomed from a hard-muscled trainer into a ball-bellied bear, but unlike the others there was nothing submissive about Henry now. The man had gained a domineering power that shocked Todd.
Shocked, and delighted him. Right now, Henryâs fist was wrapped around Toddâs throbbing cock, but the men were looking at each other directly in the eye.
âOne more drink, right?â Henry growled, squeezing Todd where he was most vulnerable. Todd had to grit his teeth hard not to moan. If he wanted to get through thisâand he did want to get through thisâhe needed to make sure he didnât let his lips part with pleasure. Someone in here was bound to slip a treat inside, and as the hog nog in his system wore off, those final calories could mean the difference between Toddâs dream physique andâŚhe didnât even want to think about the other option. He was hard enough without that fantasy threatening him and his clothes.
âFine,â Todd said, leaning back. âOne more drink. But I want more hog nog. The pure formula this time, no dilution.â
The room of hunky men nodded approvingly at Toddâs ultimatum, but Todd himself found that he was regretting his prudent choice. The truth was, now that Toddâs erection had been revealed, he was starting to enjoy the attention a little too much. A whole room of your hot gym crushes practically drooling over you? Anyone would be swayed by the circumstances. Plus, Todd had won. He had outlasted the other new recruits, and heâd somehow fulfilled the secret test of pushing Henry just over his bodyâs limit, resulting in the god that leaned over him. What did Todd have to fear? Another drink, even if it was more hog nog, was just more of the same. If anything, it gave Todd even more credibility with the crowd of lusty body builders fawning over how his body, the fittest amongst the recruits, had been able to absorb the most sugar without buckling outward into obesity. No, he had made the right choice. Now it was time to just enjoy the win.
Toddâs fear drained away, and when someone passed him a fresh glass of sweet-smelling liquid, he tipped it back without breaking eye-contact with Henry. He swallowed it all at once, his powerful throat flexing in a single gulp. Only after it was in his belly did he register the strange, ultra-sweet flavor.
âAh, you noticed!â Johan, the owner of the gym and the host of the party, plucked the cup from Toddâs hands and licked up the last few drops on the rim. âNo need to be alarmed, dear Todd. Itâs not often we get a perfect specimen such as yourself, so youâll have to forgive me for a bit ofâŚexperimentation.â
Todd went rigid. What had he just drank? âBut I saidââ
Jonah raised up his hands in surrender. âAnd I listened. That was a cup of straight hog nog, just like you requested, but the truth is no oneâs ever had more than a few drops before. In small doses, the formula converts sugar into pure gains, using the bodyâs fitness as a multiplier to determine how much muscle to create. Usually the goal is just to bulk up a bit, have a little fun, but a full dose? Well, I think the gains would only be limited by oneâs appetite.â
âWill I get fat?â Todd bit the question out through gritted teeth, not because he was scared, but because when Jonah said âappetiteâ he felt his cock flex in Henryâs hand. He was sure Henry had noticed, too, and it brought a flush to Toddâs cheeks. He had to cover his lust with disgust.
âPerhaps a bit of plushness canât be avoided,â Jonah shrugged. âBut at the scale youâre about to grow? The risk of excess fat is, theoretically, mitigated.â
Todd tried to focus on the words despite Henry next to him, lazily massaging his dick. Even more distracting was Henryâs soft, warm belly pushing into Toddâs side.
âSo youâre sayingâŚâ Todd tried to piece it together as he felt a cooling flutter in his gut. An ache of hunger, regret, and eagerness all combined. ââŚis that I can eat whatever now?â
Jonah gave a smile that was pure charm. It was the same smile heâd served to the spin instructor before the man was coaxed into getting fucked fatter and fatter. If Todd has been level-headed, he would have stood up and ran, but instead he barely noticed the humor in Jonahâs voice when the boss nodded and said, âOh Todd, that was always the case.â
The strange reasoning had dulled Toddâs attention as the pleasure in his cock inched towards climax. At the same time, the new, undiluted formula was crackling through his muscles, freezing new tension under his skin that begged for more fuel. Suddenly Toddâs fear invertedâinstead of worrying about eating too much, he was only concerned about no eating enough. This time, he wasnât sure heâd be able to stop, but did he need to?
A creampuff was floating towards his face as he considered all this, growing huge in his vision as his eyes focused on it with agonizing hunger.
Just a few more bites, he told himself, okay?
âOpen up, baby,â Henry whispered. Todd obliged, and the treat filled his mouth with rich sweetness. He didnât think. He barely chewed. He swallowed, amazed at his overpowering greed, and then all thoughts vanished as the sugar rushed through his system. The growth, this time, was a buzzy static under his skin. The swelling was gradual, but with a hefty momentum that was hard to stop. Todd lost track of the bites and their results, the feeding turning into one long, utterly exquisite growth all over, until the fabrics of Toddâs holiday outfit were balloon-tight. His chest, his arms, his ass, his thighs, even his collar. He felt like his clothes were nothing but tissue paper trying to keep him wrapped and small. But with another biteâŚ
âThatâs six,â Henry whispered appreciatively, rewarding Toddâs cock with a firm squeeze. Todd moaned, then through a mouth full of sweets he asked, âSix bites?â
Henry grinned. âSix creampuffs. All six, actually. Weâre out. Whatâs next, boys?â
The attention of the room was back on Todd now, no doubt everyone awaiting another button-popping spectacle, and Todd found he was eager to give it to them. The fact that heâd lost track of the treats didnât matter to him. He was close to hulking out of his clothes. He needed more.
Now.
Panting, his mouth yawned open as hands from every direction eagerly thrust desserts at him. Cookies, cupcakes, bites of pie, wedges of cake. The options overwhelmed him. Annoyed him, even. He was losing his hard-won momentum! The climax was slipping away! He bit into the nearest treatâa donut striped with green and red frosting, and little snowflake sprinklesâand it vanished in two meager bites. He needed something else! He opened his mouth wide in a desperate moan, and two treats went for it at once. Chocolate peppermint bark and a mini cheesecake. They smashed together on his tongue and he swallowed after barely chewing. Delicious. Todd felt his growth resuming, finally, picking up speed and urgency with each swallow. All at once it was getting uncomfortably tight in his skin, but the tightness delighted him.
âYou got this, pig boy,â Henry growled. Toddâs chewing paused. Did he call me a pig? But Henryâs hand squeezed his cock tighter as he repeated, âCâmon, big boy, you got this.â
Todd felt so close. So close. He was starting to feel full, too. He needed just a bit more to get the growth he so badly desired, and Henry was the key to that release. Todd focused on the pleasure of his cock and opened wide for one final treat. The straw of a massive milkshake found his lips. Perfect, he thought, drinking it down.
âWhoa piggy, slow down,â Henry said, amusement in his voice. Todd for sure heard it that time. He called me a piggy! But it didnât matter. He couldnât stop himself, all worry swept away by the erotic pumping of his throat as he chugged the milkshake down into his overstuffed belly of desserts. âPiggy, youâre going too fast,â Henry warned. âYouâre gonna overdo it, Todd. Iâm serious. Dude. Youâre going too fast.â Henryâs handjob had ceased, but his hand remained as a fist of tension around Toddâs twitching cock. âTodd. You donât have to do more, itâs just a joke. Look at what youâre drinking. Thatâs a fucking gallon of melted ice cream. Dude. Todd. Your watch is about to beep. Snap out of it. Toddââ
The room went quiet, the only sound the slurp of Toddâs straw sucking up the last of the milkshake. As it was taken away, Todd saw that it was, in fact, a gallon container of chocolate ice cream, now completely empty because of his greed.
âSorry,â he said to Henry, feeling a tiny burp rising in his throat. âI couldnât stop.â
But thenâŚ.it happened. Toddâs watch began to beep. A slow, dire bleat, like a final swan song, growing louder and faster as an angry warning flashed on the watchâs sticky face.
âFuck. Wait, wait! What does that mean? You saidââ Todd started to ask, but then all at once, all over Todd, it was like his muscles punched outward. The ripping release cascaded down his body, his clothes not only splitting but being torn to awkward ribbons that fought, and failed, to contain the glorious growing flesh below. Todd felt itâfelt every cell swelling up, multiplying, swelling up againâand yet it didnât diminish. Instead, the intensity increased violently, and for a split-second Todd was sure he was going to pop like a balloon. Was that what Henry meant when he said âoverdo itâ?
The watchâs beeping hammered into Toddâs skull, piercing the delirium of pleasure. He had to get himself under control, now, but was it too late? The watch only got louder as the sugar sunk into his system, warning of the inevitable, and everywhere his skin sparkles with growth. Toddâs instincts were to hold his breath and squeeze every muscle into compliance, but his training kicked in andâkeeping his core tightâhe breathed into the utterly gratifying growth of his body, riding the wave until it crashed. He braced himself for the crashâthe moment his body couldnât take another calorie, and somehow the focus helped. There was a flutter of softness in his guts, his hips, his chest, his neck, but just as it threatened to doom him, he felt his pulse even out, and the watchâs mad alarm started to steady.
Todd let out a sigh of relief, relaxing, and it was a mistake. A sharp squealing noise cut the air and everyone ducked. When Todd squeezed an eye open, everyone was laughing and pointing up at where his belt buckle had lodged into the ceiling. It wasnât hard to imagine how the thing had burst so violently; Toddâs clothes were rags on his straining form now, the strip of his leather belt miniscule compared to the adonis hunk laying among them.
âThat wasâŚimpressive,â Johan said. He seemed so tiny now. Everyone did, Todd thought, though the truth was heâd bumped up a few inches in stature. Johan heaved up Toddâs heavy wrist to check the fitness watch. âRight at the edge. No one has ever nailed it so precisely before, especially at such a perilous dose,â Johan said.
âTheâŚedge?â Toddâs hands were clumsy things as he tried to paw at his body, but it all felt strange. Not wrong, but weird. Bigger all over, but solid muscle most places. His belly, though, was comically full. He poked a huge finger into the taught, bloated muscle. He groaned. Despite this giant size and the capacity it came with, he was at his absolute limit. Whatever Johanâs formula could absorb in Toddâs system, Todd was sure heâd nearly broken past its limits and nearly ended up fat-bellied forever. Even now the watch gave a faint chirp, like a far-off reminder. Toddâs mind swam. He could feel the threat of losing control nibbling at his focus, but if he could just hold on a little longer, he was sure he was going to be okay.
âI think a reward is in order, donât you, Henry?â Jonah asked.
Henry had backed up during Toddâs growth spurtâeveryone had. The once expansive couch barely fit the reclining Todd all by himself, so big had he grown. He could feel it sagging beneath him. If he moved, it might buckle. He didnât even dare sit up. He felt a little sheepish now, a little dumb, just laying sprawled out in the ruins of his clothes, with crumbs covering his face and gathering in the deep ravine between his sweating pecs. In fact, Todd could barely see over the mound of his own muscles as Henry sank to the floor, between Toddâs legs.
Then Todd felt a tongue on his cock.
âAâŚreward?â Todd said, pleasure hitching in his voice. As Henry lapped at Toddâs cock, he slid his hands up cut V of Toddâs pelvis, over Toddâs bloated gut. Toddâs head rolled back, a moan breaking free. The growth had rendered him senselessly sore, and every touch was like the best massage after a hard dayâs lift. If he felt any shame about getting sucked off right in the middle of the party, it melted away as Henryâs mouth opened wide to take him in. But the pleasure wasnât quite complete. Toddâs mouth panted open, too, and couldnât seem to close again. He felt a pesky emptiness still that Henry could do nothing to relieve. He feltâŚa little hungry.
Thankfully, Jonah was there to make sure no one gave Todd another morsel. The couch sank even lower as Jonah climbed up, feet planted on either side of Toddâs waist, so that he could look down at his creation as he unfastened his belt.
âLook at you,â Jonah said, eyes gleaming. âPerfect, in every way. The clear superior to your peers.â Jonah motioned to one side, to the twink, who had blown up first when his vanity quickly overtook his self-control. Now the poor boy was huffing and puffing, red-faced, as multiple men pinched at his swollen nipples. Jonah motioned to the other side, to the spin instructor. The once sinewy man had exploded into a plush, fattened body that rippled with the force of his rigorous fucking. His fifth of the night, Todd thought. And Jonah didnât need to motion at Henry. Todd could feel every inch of Henryâs greedy throat as the other trainer expertly worked Toddâs cock towards climax.
Now Jonah had his cock out, too. He slowly jerked the length of the immense thing as he sat upon Toddâs heaving chest. âSuperior to your peers, but somehow hungrier. What a delightful appetite, indeed. Let me help you with your new oral fixation.â
Thank god, Todd thought, feeling relief the moment Jonahâs cock hit his tongue. Heâd had plenty of fantasies about Jonah too, of course, and now that his boss had transformed into a gorgeous, silver-hair hunk? Todd was eager as ever to impress, except instead of tasting the salt of Jonahâs precum, Todd tasted only sweet. Then he felt itâthe grit of sugarâand his mind flashed back to the moment before when Jonah had generously pumped the length of his cock.
âWhatâs wrong?â Jonah growled. Where Jonah caressed Toddâs jaw, crumbs were cascading from the cookie heâd sly crushed up while Todd had been distracted by the twink and the instructor. Now that cookie had become a sugary paste which Jonah had slathered up and down his cock. Inch by inch, he was getting a final handful of calories into his beefed-up experiment. The timing couldnât have been worse for Todd, whose already pitiful self-control was gradually being licked away by Henry between his legs.
It was too much and not enough. It was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. The entire night had built up to thisâthe entire year, in fact, had been training for this holiday partyâand Todd had handled every new and strange test. How could he let himself go now? Heâd sucked off tons of studs, and heâd gotten head from tons more. Why was this scenario creating a lust within him so heavy and hungry that he couldnât help taking another inch of Jonahâs sugary dick? Then another? Then another, until his chin was crammed against the base of Jonahâs balls.
âCareful, piggy,â Jonah warned, grabbing Toddâs hair and prying his greedy lips away so that another coating of sugar could be applied. In a daze, Todd dutifully redoubled his efforts, grabbing Jonahâs hips and pulling him fully down so that the length of his sweet cock bottomed out at the base of Toddâs throat. The sugar, cut through with the salt of Jonahâs precum and the musk of Toddâs spit, was a mix so potent that Todd couldnât help himself. In this moment, he was exactly the pig Jonah had hand-picked for exactly this
Henry abruptly stopped sucking Todd off. âDude, Jonah, thatâs enough,â Henry said from between Toddâs legs, his breath a cool, sobering air on Toddâs aching balls. âYouâre not still feeding him, are you? Heâs getting a little soft...â
Henry didnât mean Toddâs cock, which was rock hard. So what did he mean? Todd finally felt the delayed sensation of Henryâs hands pushing up into his belly. It had been taught with tension before, but now it seemed like Henryâs hands were pressing into brand new fat. Fat that was grumbling bigger and bigger. Toddâs eyes shot open, his lust clearing for a moment as he realized his mistake, but at the same time Jonah let out a cry.
âJust a littleâŚmore!â Jonah moaned, and a surge of cum filled Toddâs mouth. The load was so abundant that a dribble shot down Toddâs lips, but like an obedient pig he found his lips clamping tight, hoarding the rest of it as he shoved Jonah off to the side. Now he could see clearly what had Henry in a panic. The bloat of his belly had indeed relented into a wide, trembling belly. It pushed out as Todd sat up, gurgling with the threat of more growth. He wrapped his massive arms over it like he could make it go away, and for at least a moment more nothing happened.
âDonât swallow that load,â Henry said direly.
Todd could taste the abundant sugar that had snuck past his lips during the blowjob. He almost swallowed on reflex, but he stopped just short of guzzling the thick cream down into his over-stuffed stomach. His body had absorbed all the sugar it could, even with the undiluted dose, yet his watch hadnât beeped again. Todd felt scared, but at the same time, over-confident. What was the harm with swallowing this final treat?
âCum has calories, right?â Henry surveyed the room. âRight?â But instead of gathering support for his warning, all Henry managed to do was provoke a rising chant out of the other men.
SWALLOW IT. SWALLOW IT. The room boomed with the words, the chant quickly falling into an incoherent maelstrom of demand. Clutching his belly, cheeks flushed, Todd was a spectacle of greed and humiliation as he turned from man to man with his fully, sticky cheeks. Their bulky, muscular bodies closed in around him, locking out all reason and enclosing him in one final, inescapable decision.
Todd obediently swallowed. The sugary load was warm all the way down, settling atop everything else heâd eaten that night.
The men leaned closer. Jonah, closest of all. Even Henry hovered between Toddâs legs, eyes scanning for the first signs of the inevitable. The whole room listened for the telltale alarm of the watch. Then Todd winced. The men drew closer, but all that happened was Todd let out a tiny, polite burp, followed by an open-mouthed sigh to show off his empty mouth. He was going to be okay.
âSee?â he said, breathless and relieved. He held up his watch, hoping to brandish itâs victorious silence, but it was gone. A red mark on his wrist indicated where it had been until, minutes ago, he had outgrown the fitness tracker.
âDudeâŚâ Henry started to back away. âWhat have you done?â
âDone? Iâm fine,â Todd protested even as the couch let out a defeated crack and began to sag all the way to the floor. Todd ignored it, clutching his belly tighter as he held to the fierce denial that had preserved him all evening from facing his eventual piggy fate.
âTodd, Iâm sorry buddy, but you did this to yourself,â Henry said in a patronizing voice. Todd shook his head, trying to laugh it off like this was just guy talk. âWhat are you talking about? Iâm fine Henry. I know my limits. Iâm a jock, remember? Iâmââ
It happened fast, but no faster than the others. In truth, Toddâs fattening was the slowest of all, gathering momentum the entire night as his lesser peers gave in one by one. But for all its slowness it had built itself into something ten times as intense. In fact, even in the first few seconds of it, Todd realized the sizeable growth witness tonightâthe twink, the instructor, Henry, and himselfâwas nothing compared to metabolic atom bomb he had stuffed himself with.
Still, he found himself desperately in denial against the pleasure exploding all over him.
âItâs just a bulk,â Todd whined as fat puffed up beneath his hands, his belly gathering in his arms until his hands couldnât even meet at his deepening bellybutton. âIâll lose this extra weight in no time,â he pleaded as his thighs thickened beneath him, the gulf of couch between his legs rapidly filling up, his knees turning into lone, lost dimples as the fat even spread down to his ankles. And finally: âIâm a jock, fuck please, someone help me. Iâm a jock, remember?â
âTodd, Iâm sorry kid, but youâre the biggest pig here,â Henry said, voice thick with gloating. He had won after all.
âIâm not,â Todd protested. Shaking his head, he felt the new lethargy of multiple chins gathering in a ring around his neck. No matter what he did, he couldnât seem to gain back the control heâd mastered only minutes before. It was as though every tiny debt heâd incurred all evening was being paid, all at once, and he was powerless to do anything other than watch his once-perfect body explode into rolls and rolls of glossy, abundant fat. Heâd taken every single bite, accepted every single challenge, and now the hog nog was soaking up every grain of sugar, burying Todd where he lay as his crush looked down with rich satisfaction.
Worst of all, though, was the emptiness. As the rapid fattening slowed, Todd felt the sudden absence of all that heâd eaten, now absorbed and repurposed. It left him with a hunger like heâd never felt before.
âOh, is piggy ready for more?â Henry said, noticing the way Toddâs eyes flicked over the the banquet table still ladened with sweets. By now the other scenarios in the room had resumed, the ex-twink on his loveseat, the spin instructor getting gently fucked. It was just Henry and Todd now, on the ruined couch.
âIâŚI really shouldnât,â Todd said, though it was more of a moan as Henryâs massive hands dug below Toddâs massive belly and found what little remained of the studâs former length.
âRelax,â Henry said, producing a gingerbread cookie. âItâs the holidays, buddy. Calories donât count.â
THE END
Author's Note: SORRYYYY this took me so long, I honestly still don't love the ending, but you know what? Holidays come around every year. I'm just excited to get to some other stories/ideas you all have been sending me. Thank you for being so patient and checking in!
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christmas has passed and we still haven't gotten hog nog part 3 đ any updates?
also happy holidays to you!!
ahhhh I am sorry people!! I have been so bad!! But the holidays of course have me feeling very inspired to finish Hog Nog, so let me get back to work right now. Will try to post soon!
your newest chapter if hog nog is great! I love that you can express how much he wants to change but is holding himself back. He's chomping at the bit but is trying to rationalize it. I would love to see what hapoens next
Thank you so much, I think I might start part 3 soon =)
SUMMARY: With several cups of the hog nog already inside him, Todd realizes he and the other personal trainer, Henry, might have bitten off more than they can chew as others at the party begin to swell. Then Todd's boss offers him a big proposition.
Read Part 1 here
Part 2
âThe main course?â Todd gulped. Before his very eyes heâd watched a twink transform into a jock, then swell up into the chubby boy before him. Meanwhile the once-lean spin instructorâs toned legs were thickly fattened, as was his ass, as a hoard of horny buff boys lined up to fuck him.
What was going to happen next?
âThatâs right,â Johan said, admiring his work on the first two employees. âThe main course.â
Henry caught Toddâs eye, then slapped on a big, cheesy smile. He was playing along, indicating Todd should do the same. Todd tried, but his eyes kept on sliding from smiling Johan to the spectacle of the fattened twink, and the instructor being gently bent into a fuckable position.
âWhat, youâre not enjoying our little show?â Johan asked, pretending to be offended. He grazed a hand over Henryâs new, even-beefier chest.
âI think weâre a little worried about becoming the show,â Henry said, biting down a sigh of pleasure. From the looks of it, he was still taking on more muscle, though it was hard to tell given Henryâs thicker stature at the start.
Johan nodded sympathetically. âOh, youâll be fine. Trust me. I mean sure, you might end up with just a little extra pudge, but arenât the gains worth it? Besides, I have the fullest faith you can lose the fatâŚâ Johan glanced at Todd, ââŚif you want to lose it, that is. Itâs all about your control, after all. Besides, look around you . Everyone here is doing the same. The hog nog is our little annual treat.â
âHog nog?â Todd asked. âIs that what you served us?â
âOf course! Only the best for our recruits!â The room cheered distractedly, only half paying attention to Johan as he chatted between Todd and Henry. Everyone had an eye on the instructor, who had been ushered onto all fours on the immense coffee table. A trio of beefy studs grouped behind him, greedily running their hands over his swollen hips and thighs. By the way the instructor was groaning, the cock being pushed into him was probably hitting all the right spots. The stiffness melted from the instructorâs posture as he finally relaxed. The top must have felt this, because the fucking quickly turned from a gentle easing into something much more carnal.
Todd tried to not to stare. The sooner this boner went away, the sooner he and Henry could make a run for it.
Johan was saying, âEveryone has some hog nog at the holiday party. Just a little, but we save our purest, undiluted batch for the new hires. Itâs a bit of a game. A test, really. It takes great discipline to do what we do, and nowâs your chance to prove yourself.â
âProve ourselves?â Todd asked. His eyes were glued to the instructor.
âOf course. Consider it your final interview for a lifetime position with our gym. Strictly voluntary. Youâre welcome to have as much or as little as youâd like, and youâre free to leave at any moment. All of you, although it appears some might be here for a whileâŚâ
Johan was referring to the instructor. The rough fucking had driven the instructor down, onto his elbows, putting his moaning face level with the treats on the table. Much of the cookies had been pushed away in the action, but someone was placing down a large, decadent cake swirled with chocolate frosting and dotted with sprinkles. Forks appeared and instead of slicing the cake, chunks were carved out and then pushed towards Todd and the other new hires.
âTrust me,â Johan said to Todd and Henry, âYou both are the pinnacle of male fitness. You can handle way more than those two piggies. Donât worry about them, though. Theyâll get a free membership.â
Todd nodded. He was way more disciplined than those two. Not wanting to indicate his fear, he accepted the bite, as did Henry. Both boys moaned as they felt the body-wide aching ease into a swell as their muscles soaked up the sugar. The instructor wasnât so lucky. The next time he moaned a bite was shoved right into his mouth, catching him by surprise. From behind, the top fucking him pushed in extra deep, inspiring another open-mouthed moan, and in went another bite, and another, and another, until the instructorâs cheeks were bulging as he chewed. For a moment he was caught in a daze, but then his eyes flung open and a hand rushed to his belly.
âOh god,â he shouted through his full mouth. âOoooh god, ooooh god!â His watch beeped madly.
âNow heâs really over done it,â Johan murmured.
With each thrust, more and more of the instructorâs body seemed to be rippling with fat. Everything was starting to jiggle, as though something was building in him. He must have felt it, too. He kept moaning âOh god, oh goddd,â as he was getting fucked, but the panic was gone. Now, it sounded like a man being brought to climax. Even his handsâwhich had urgently tried to stop the fat from spreadingârose to pinch at his puffy nipples pointing from quickly swelling tits.
âHead down, pig,â commanded the top as he grabbed the instructorâs once-narrow shoulders and shoved him into the ruined cake. To Toddâs surprise, the instructor opened wide, accepting the dessert as others reached around him to help him scoop more into his panting, moaning mouth. It was beyond hot, but there was no way that was going to happen to Todd next. Right? Todd chewed with his eyes glued to the fattening instructor, breaking only to assess the ex-twink, who was practically overflowing the tiny love seat all by himself now. What pigs, Todd thought as he swallowed. How pathetic. And how hot. He and Henry were going to be fine, and probably laugh about this later.
And then Henryâs watch began to beep.
âFuuuuuck.â Henry let out a low groan. His hands splayed over his gut. Almost in time with the slow beeps of his watch, a pressure seemed to be building under his hands. âFuck. Fuck man,â he groaned. The way his face was screwed up, it was hard to tell if the sensation was pleasant or painful. Either way, his jaw still chewed and chewed, like his mouth was on auto-pilot.
âHenry? Your watchââ Todd started to say, but Johan shut him up with a snap of his fingers.
âHush. This is the momentâŚâ Johan trailed off. The room was quiet nowâeven the instructor moans lowered as the tops fucking him slowed down. Everyoneâs eyes were on Henry, whose watch cried out on his wrist. Henryâs eyes were squeezed shut and he kept whispering âFuck, fuck no, fuck, fuck.â
He was still chewing, though.
Johanâs hand was suddenly on Toddâs shoulder. âLook. His chest.â Todd held his breath and leaned closer. Sure enough, Henryâs pecs were swelling to the point that his shirt was about to bust open. One more biteâwhich Henry was chewing at this very instantâand it seemed the shirt was doomed. The whole room watched with lustful focus as Henryâs stubbled throat flexed, taking the massive bite down and into him. Even Todd held his breath, aware that he was harder than ever beneath over the pillow he clutched in his lap. What was going to happen to Henry? Shouldnât he stop his friend from going too far?
Except for Henryâs watch, the room was silent. Then Henry let out a groan of discomfort and, quite loudly, the first button on his shirt popped off. It zinged into the crowd, ignored, as all eyes watched Henryâs pecs swell through the newly widened crevice in his straining clothes. But the show wasnât over. In seconds Henryâs pecs swelled even further, jeopardizing the next button, and the next, but like clockwork they popped off, unable to keep his new body contained. Henry let out a cry each time, but it was clear the extra room was a relief. Soon, his beautifully tanned skin was straining through tiny rips in the shirt, pulling seams apart at the shoulders and biceps.
But Toddâs eyes were on Henryâs belly, clamped beneath the manâs strong hands. Thick puffs of fat were pushing between his fingers, ballooning under the shirt, and Todd found himself anticipating the moment it all ripped apart and he got to see the damage once and for all.
âIntriguing, isnât it?â Johan said to Todd, surprising him. âYouâre curious, arenât you?â
âIâm good, Iâve had enough,â Todd said.
âBut has he?â
Henryâs watch had slowed itâs beeping. His growth had all but paused. The room rustled with disappointment, but Johanâs smile was reassuring.
âDear Henry here seems right on the verge, ready to tip. Do you know what that means, Todd?â
Todd shook his head, mesmerized by the sweat that dotted Henryâs face.
Johan pushed closer. âIt means, Todd, that youâve nearly won.â
Todd was nodding despite himself. This had been a competition all along, had it not? To see who could last the longest? Who was most in shape? Henryâs watch had beeped before Toddâs, but for some reason it wasnât over. Maybe because Henry had managed to stop, just in time, before he was a total goner like the other two. Todd looked at Johan, confused, and saw the answer in the older guyâs hand. Another gingerbread man. Johan placed the cookie in Toddâs palm, saying, âGo on, then. Earn your victory.â
Henry was still breathing hard. His eyes were squeezed tight and his lips pressed together in denial. But Todd couldnât help himself. He brought the cookie to his friendâs lips. Even just the smell made Henryâs eyelids flutter, and his lips part. One more bight was all Henry would needâŚ
âNot so fast, Todd,â Johan cut in. âIt wouldnât be fair if one of you had more than the other, would it? That would hardly prove who is in better shape. If you want to really impress us, youâll have to go bite for bite.â
âBite for bite?â
Johanâs smile was simply too sweet as he produced yet another gingerbread man, wagging it in front of Toddâs own face. It smelled incredible, like nothing Todd had ever tasted. Instantly his mouth was watering. ButâŚcould he afford another bite? Johan seemed to think so. The risk was colossal, though, and shouldnât he be helping his friend, not feeding him? Then again, heâd had a crush on Henry since they met. Maybe if Henry was dying to get back in shape, and Todd was in the best shape of his life, they could start something amazing.
Before Todd could decide, he felt something warm on his hand and heard Henry moan. To Toddâs horror (and delight) Henry was eating the cookie right out of his hand! Sucking it down with sensuous greed. It was incredibly hot feeling the manâs lips graze his fingertips, eager for the treat, and Toddâs own mouth hung open to accept Johanâs offer. Bite for bite. What was so bad about that? The cookie tasted incredible, and being fed while he fed his friend was achingly hot. He forgot all about his watch, or the new tightness in his thighs, or his rock-hard boner. He swallowed dryly, not even noticing Jonah beginning to feed him a second cookie.
âJust a littleâŚmoreâŚâ Johan whispered. The whole room was watching.
Todd was totally lost in Henryâs half-lidded stare, which somehow shined with both total surrender and an accusatory glint. Then something shifted, and Henryâs eyes fluttered wide, suddenly lucid as Todd pushed the last leg of gingerbread man into him.
âDude,â Henry said, spitting crumbs, âTodd, what the fuck, man? What the fuck did you do to meâoh fuck. Oh my god. Holy shit. Holyââ
Henryâs watch beeped frantically one final time, then went quiet. Henry lurched back, pressing into the couch like he was trying to escape his own body. The pressure in his gut was audible now, pushing hard on the already strained fabric of his shirt. He looked around, desperate, but his eyes landed back on Todd. Large men behind the sofa pried Henryâs hands off his distended belly, forcing them to his sides so that everyone could get a good view at what was about to happen.
âFuck, I canâtâŚI canât stop it. Fuck Todd, help me, help meeeee.â
But it was already done. Henryâs middle quickly buckled outward, love handles flowing over the tight leather of his belt. His belly ballooned forward, into his lap, and with a final cry the last buttons of his shirt flew off. The men began to cheerâthis is what they had been afterâbut the celebration died right away when Henryâs exposed belly didnât slow down. No, instead of simply freeing itself, the tight fat of Henryâs new gut kept flowing. Softening. Trembling. Growing. And despite the manâs protests it was clear he was bound for bear-hood. Within seconds, Henry was sporting the belly of a 300 lb, overfed ex-powerlifter, with fatty pecs to match. The room gawked, amazed at the results, and the men holding Henryâs arms finally let go. Henry grazed his hands over his new gut, transfixed. Almost appreciative. Then, with his hands proudly settled on his belly, Henry winked at Todd.
âKnew you had it in you,â Henry said, his voice strong and clear. He sounded normal, no sign of the sugar-drunk piggy from a second ago. Todd was confused.
Henry flexed his chest, his arms, garnering praise from the men around the room. âThis is perfect, Todd. Good work. Iâve been wanting to try out the bear look, but all the eating seemed like so much work. Thanks for helping me out.â
âWait,â Todd sat back. âYou wanted this? You were in control?â
âSure,â Henry shrugged. âListen, this test is all about self-control, but also not being afraid to push others. Push otherâs hard. And you did great.â
What? This was a test, too? Henry was faking, just going along with the scared act to see what Todd would do? Johanâs sly smile seemed to confirm this. The men around the room were giving approving nods. Other activities had recommenced. The instructor began to moan again as the guys fucking him swapped out. The twink, now horribly obese, slurped noisily from a milkshake someone held up to his chubby face.
âThat wasnât so bad, was it?â Johan asked Todd, who could barely sputter a response. Was it finally over? Did he win? Johan slapped him on the shoulder, saying, âHow about another drink, eh?â
It was too much for Todd. All of the men staring, their bulging physiques, the smell of their sweat and spit, the smell of sugar in the air. His head swam and Henryâs new, bulging belly filled his vision even though he tried desperately to think of anything else. He could feel his body reaching its limit. His muscles were tight and sensitive like heâd worked out for three days straight, and they were begging to soften. He couldnât let that happen. He had to go. Now.
âIâm sorry. I need to go.â Todd heaved himself up, but his balance was terrible now. His legs, powerful as they were, were a new impediment, and the lightness in his head was terrible. He clutched the pillow still, but now he was only vaguely aware of his cock. The room throbbed, but worse was the pleasure that rushed through Todd. Waves of it, like before, but why? Heâd just had a little more, right?
âWhatâs this? A little starter belly?â
Shit, Todd thought. Heâd wanted to pinch and poke at himself this whole time, but a sense of denial fought off any urge to confirm his worse fears were coming true. Johan steadied him from behind, the bossâs hands sliding around the taught fabric clinging to Toddâs hip. Todd squeezed his eyes shut, seeing himself only by the Jonahâs wandering hands, which gradually squeezed a new heft of fat gathered against Toddâs belt.
âI ate a lot,â Todd whined. A weak, insipid denial.
âOh, we know,â Johan laughed as he gently pried Toddâs belt open. Todd felt a pressure relieve, and his head cleared just a bit. That felt nice, but he had to keep his wits. He could go whenever, right? Those were the rules, but he couldnât leave if he was naked.
âWhatâs this?â Johanâs hand grazed Toddâs bulge, which was still hard, and quite wet with precum. Todd swore, realizing heâd forgotten about this particular detail. He sat down, trying to rummage up his belt, but his bloated belly was firm and inconvenient. Why was he so out of breath, too? He felt hot all over, like his tiny protest had been a grand attempt at escape. The men nearby laughed, noticing the sweat on his brow. Johan knelt before Todd, walking his fingers over Toddâs rounded belly.
âWell thatâs a twist,â Johan said. âHere I thought you were just feeding Henry out of ambition, but all along youâve had other interests.â
âWhat?â Henry had sat up a bit, hands on his knees. His arms rested on his new, furry gut. Todd wanted to shut Johan up, but maybe Johan would take mercy on him, finally.
âOur star personal trainer Todd,â Johan lifted his voice so the whole room could hear him. ââŚ.is rock hard.â
The men went suddenly quiet, captivated again. A few hands pulled Todd down so he was sitting slouched on the sofa, only able to see the mound of his belly and his heavy pecs barely contained in his shirt. Past his belly, Johanâs eyes were fixed on Toddâs groin. Todd felt his underwear being pulled aside, and cool air finally breath over his cock.
He sat up, embarrassed, but to Toddâs surprise Henry reached forward and wrapped a strong hand around his cock. His touch was firm, but kind, and the ample precum created just enough slide that all the fight went out of Toddâs muscles.
âNow, how about that drink?â Henry asked, slowly massaging his slick thumb over Toddâs cockhead.
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