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letsgetbigger · 2 months ago

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Twink Death

The bass thumped like a heartbeat, reverberating through the crowded club as neon lights flickered in rhythmic pulses. Simon glanced at his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. His blond hair was artfully tousled, and he wore a tight white tee that clung to his slim frame, tucked into skinny black jeans. He was used to attention but felt a little jittery tonight. Michael, his best friend, coworker and fellow roommate, had dragged him out, insisting they needed to "blow off steam" after a hectic week at the clothing store.

“Look around, Simon,” he said, gesturing with his empty glass. “This place is teeming with men who would kill to buy a twink like you a drink.”

“All they want is a one-night stand.”

“And what's wrong with that?”

Michael winked, then disappeared into the throng of bodies on the dance floor, leaving Simon standing at the bar. Simon scanned the room. That’s when he noticed him: a man in his late thirties just a few feet away, casually leaning against the bar like he owned the place. Broad shoulders filled out a crisp navy button-up that strained slightly over his chest, and his brown hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him an effortlessly mature air. His biceps flexed slightly as he raised a glass of whiskey to his lips. The man’s gaze met Simon’s. His brown eyes softened into a smile, and he walked over with the confidence of someone who had nothing to prove.

“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and warm. “I’m Jeff.”

Simon blinked, caught off guard.

“Oh, hi. Simon.”

He shook Jeff’s offered hand, his smaller fingers disappearing in Jeff’s firm grip.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Jeff said, nodding at Simon’s nearly empty glass. “Mind if I get you one?”

Simon hesitated for a split second before nodding.

“Sure, why not?”

Jeff signaled to the bartender and ordered another gin and tonic for Simon. As they waited, Jeff turned to face Simon fully, towering over him in a way that was somehow both intimidating and intoxicating.

“So, what brings you here tonight, Simon?”

“My roommate dragged me out,” Simon said. “I’m not much of a club person, honestly.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit right in.”

“Thanks, I think?” Simon replied, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

Jeff chuckled. “It’s a compliment.”

Simon's drink arrived, and they clinked glasses before taking sips. The conversation flowed effortlessly—Jeff talked about his work as a Realtor, his passion for architecture and how much he loved discovering hidden gems in the city. Simon shared stories about the chaos of working retail with Michael. Before long, Jeff leaned in closer, his cologne—a mix of cedar and spice—invading Simon’s senses.

“Do you dance?” Jeff asked, his tone playful.

“I do,” Simon said, shyly.

Jeff extended a hand. “Come on, then.”

Simon placed his hand in Jeff’s, letting him lead him to the dance floor. The music was loud, the beat infectious, and Jeff’s presence steady and grounding. They moved together, Jeff’s strong hands guiding Simon’s hips until Simon let go of his self-consciousness. Their bodies pressed closer, and Simon felt a flutter in his chest every time Jeff’s dark eyes locked on his.

“Simon, I’d like to keep talking. My place isn’t far. Would you like to come over?”

Simon hesitated, glancing around for Michael. He caught his friend on the far side of the dance floor, waving and flashing a thumbs-up. Taking a deep breath, Simon turned back to Jeff.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

The sleek black SUV pulled into the underground garage of a luxury high-rise in downtown. Simon looked out the window, marveling at the clean lines of the building and the shimmering skyline. Jeff parked the car effortlessly and turned to him.

“Welcome to my place,” he said.

Simon followed Jeff to the elevator, their hands brushing as they walked. When they stepped into Jeff’s apartment, Simon’s jaw dropped. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a stunning view of the city, and the open-concept living room was immaculate, with modern furniture, tasteful artwork, and a kitchen that looked straight out of a magazine.

“This is... wow,” Simon said, turning to Jeff.

Jeff set his keys on the counter.

“Glad you like it. Make yourself at home.”

Simon wandered over to the windows, while Jeff grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine. He handed Simon a glass, their fingers grazing, before leaning casually against the counter.

“You’re even more stunning in this light,” Jeff said softly, his voice like honey.

Simon felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“I bet you say that to everyone you bring here,” Simon teased, sipping his wine.

“Only when it’s true,” Jeff replied, his eyes never leaving Simon’s.

The tension between them simmered, and before Simon could respond, Jeff closed the distance between them. His hands slid gently around Simon’s tiny waist, pulling him close. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, filled with heat and longing. Simon melted into Jeff’s embrace. They moved to the bedroom, where the city lights cast a soft glow across the luxurious space. Clothes were shed, kisses trailed, and hands explored, Jeff’s touch both tender and consuming. Simon felt completely seen, completely adored.

After having amazing sex, they lay tangled in the sheets. Jeff’s arm was draped over Simon’s slender frame.

“You’re incredible,” Jeff murmured, his voice husky.

Simon turned to face him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he teased.

Jeff smiled, then grew serious, his gaze softening.

“Simon, I want you to know something. I don’t just see this as a one-time thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want to take care of you,” Jeff said, his voice earnest. “You seem special, Simon. I want to pamper you, spoil you, take you on dates...”

Simon blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Jeff’s words.

“Really?” he asked softly.

Jeff nodded.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean. Let me treat you the way you deserve.”

Simon felt a flutter in his chest, a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He had never been pursued so openly, so confidently.

“I... I think I’d like that,” he said.

Jeff grinned, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Simon’s forehead.

“Then how about dinner tomorrow night? A proper date.”

Simon nodded eagerly.

“Okay.”

Jeff pulled him closer, his strong arms enveloping Simon. As they lay together, Simon felt a sense of warmth and security he hadn’t experienced before.

***

Here he was, sitting in a vinyl booth at a 24-hour diner across from Jeff, who looked very happy. The warm smell of fried food and syrup hung in the air as Jeff casually flipped through the menu.

“Are you hungry?” Jeff asked, noticing Simon fidgeting with his straw.

“Only a little,” Simon lied, though his stomach growled softly in protest.

Jeff chuckled, the sound rich and warm. He flagged down the waitress.

“Two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries and two chocolate milkshakes. Oh, and a plate of waffles with ice cream for dessert. Sound good?”

He winked at Simon. Simon opened his mouth to object but couldn’t bring himself to ruin Jeff’s enthusiasm.

“That’s… a lot of food.”

“You don’t have to finish it all,” Jeff said with a shrug, though the gleam in his eye suggested he hoped Simon would.

When the food arrived, Simon stared at the towering cheeseburger, the golden fries glistening beside it, and the decadent milkshake topped with whipped cream. Jeff dug in without hesitation, biting into his burger with gusto and groaning in satisfaction.

“You’ve gotta try this,” Jeff said between bites. “It’s amazing.”

Simon hesitated, but the aroma was too tempting. He took a cautious bite, the melted cheese and juicy patty practically melting in his mouth. Before he knew it, he was reaching for the fries, then sipping the milkshake. Jeff watched him with a satisfied smile.

“See? Told you it was good.”

By the time the waffles arrived, Simon was full but couldn’t say no when Jeff slid the plate toward him. Two scoops of vanilla ice cream oozed over the warm, syrup-drenched waffles.

“Just a bite,” Jeff said, though Simon noticed the encouraging tone.

Simon groaned as he took a forkful.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Only in the best way,” Jeff replied, smirking.

That first date set the tone for the beginning of relationship. Simon quickly discovered that Jeff had a talent for making indulgence seem irresistible. Every time they met—usually at Jeff’s spacious apartment, there was always something sweet in the kitchen. A pink box of fresh donuts on the counter. A chocolate cake with thick frosting in the fridge. A carton of premium ice cream in the freezer, always paired with Jeff’s insistence: “Have a little. You deserve it.” Jeff had a knack for making Simon feel special, showering him with compliments and small surprises. He’d pick Simon up after work, whisking him away to a cozy restaurant or back to his place, where they’d curl up with a movie and snacks. Jeff always seemed happiest when Simon gave in to his offers—taking the extra slice of pizza or savoring the brownie Jeff had baked himself.

At first, Simon didn’t think much of it. Jeff clearly loved seeing him happy, and the attention was intoxicating. But after about a month, Simon was starting to notice some changes. His skinny jeans felt a little tighter. His favorite shirt clung in places it hadn’t before. One evening, while stepping out of the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His once-flat stomach now had a slight curve, and his face seemed a touch softer. When he stepped onto the scale, the digital numbers blinked back:

15 pounds heavier.

Jeff entered the bathroom. His gaze dropped to the way the briefs hugged Simon’s growing hips and how the waistband strained against his softening waistline. Simon turned, catching Jeff staring.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing. You’re just… perfect.”

Simon rolled his eyes, but his blush betrayed him.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” Jeff murmured, wrapping an arm around Simon’s waist. He tugged him close.

“And you know what? I think you’re getting even more perfect.”

Simon squirmed slightly but didn’t pull away.

“But I’ve gained weight.”

Jeff grinned.

“Yes. And I love every single bit of you.”

His hands slid down, cupping Simon’s ass.

“Especially this.”

Simon let out a surprised laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

Jeff tilted his head. He gave Simon a gentle squeeze, earning a mock glare.

Over the next few weeks, Jeff’s obsession grew more obvious. He loved surprising Simon with treats, always framing it as an act of care. He’d surprise Simon with his favorite pastries, or he’d whip up elaborate dinners that always ended with a rich dessert. He never outright said it, but Jeff was thrilled to see Simon indulging. And Simon—despite his initial reservations—found it hard to resist. Jeff was so good at making him feel cherished. “You deserve to be spoiled,” Jeff would say, handing him a plate of double-fudge brownies. “Let me take care of you.” The results were impossible to miss. Simon’s hips filled out his jeans in a way they hadn’t before, and his thighs started to press against the seams. His briefs became a challenge to pull on, the fabric stretching tight over his fuller ass, often leaving the top of his cheeks exposed. Jeff loved those moments—catching Simon struggling with a waistband or seeing him shift uncomfortably on the couch, adjusting the fit of his too-tight clothes.

***

Curled up on the couch one lazy Saturday night, Simon sat with a bowl of his favorite ice cream while Jeff rested his hand on Simon’s thigh. Jeff’s hand kneaded the soft flesh.

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Simon asked, glancing at Jeff with a teasing smile.

Jeff didn’t look embarrassed—if anything, he looked proud.

“Into what?”

“You know,” Simon said, gesturing vaguely at his body. “Fat.”

Jeff pulled him closer.

“I’m into you. I love everything about you. And yeah, I love that you’re letting me spoil you. I love how happy you look when you’re eating something you enjoy. And, if I’m being honest…” His hand slid lower, resting on Simon’s fuller backside. “I can’t get enough of how sexy you look.”

Simon’s face turned pink.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

Jeff’s adoration was undeniable, and it was hard for Simon not to feel flattered by all the attention. Still, he couldn’t ignore how his wardrobe was shrinking, or how every pair of briefs he owned now clung to him like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. But every time he caught Jeff staring—his brown eyes full of love and hunger—Simon couldn’t help but feel a thrill.

After having a coffee the following morning, Simon stood in front of the mirror. He realized his ass had grown a lot, spilling over the top of his briefs and making it impossible to find pants that fit properly. His tits and belly looked bigger too. He sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair as Jeff walked into the bedroom, carrying a pink box of donuts.

“You bought donuts again?” Simon asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jeff grinned.

“Of course. You love these.”

Simon crossed his arms over his chest.

“Jeff, we need to talk.”

Jeff set the box down on the nightstand, his brow furrowing.

“What’s wrong?”

“This,” Simon said, gesturing to himself. “I’ve gained twenty pounds, Jeff. My clothes don’t fit. I can’t keep eating like this.”

Jeff stepped closer, his hands finding Simon’s love handles.

“Simon, you look incredible.”

“I look chubby, I'm not a twin anymore” Simon shot back, his cheeks flushing.

Jeff tilted his head, his brown eyes softening.

“You look hot. You’ve always been gorgeous, but now… I don’t know. I love you like this.” His hands slid down to cup Simon’s big ass, squeezing gently. “Especially this. It drives me crazy.”

Simon tried to pull away, but Jeff held him firmly.

“Jeff, I mean it. I need to go on a diet.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Jeff said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

Before Simon could protest, Jeff pulled a donut out—a glazed, sugar-dusted ring that practically sparkled under the light.

“Open up,” Jeff said, holding it to Simon’s lips.

“Jeff, I—”

“Shh.”

Jeff’s other hand slid around to Simon’s belly, his fingers brushing over the soft curve.

“You know I love you,” he murmured, his tone dripping with adoration. “Let me take care of you.”

Simon hesitated, his resolve wavering. Jeff leaned closer, his lips brushing against Simon’s ear.

“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” Jeff whispered. “You have no idea how crazy you make me, Simon.”

The sweet, buttery flavor melted on Simon’s tongue as Jeff’s hand continued its exploration, squeezing his developing man boobs and then reaching his dick.

“Good boy. You’re so sexy,” Jeff said, his hand jerking him off. “Every time I see you in these tight little briefs, I lose my mind.”

Simon swallowed.

“I don’t feel—”

“Shh,” Jeff cut him off. He picked up another donut, holding it between his fingers like it was something precious, and crouched to meet Simon’s gaze. “I love how soft you’ve gotten. How much you’ve let me take care of you.”

“Jeff…” Simon began, but his voice faltered when Jeff brought the second donut to his lips.

“Open,” Jeff said, his tone both gentle and commanding.

Simon hesitated but parted his lips. He took a bite, the sugary glaze melting on his tongue.

“Good,” Jeff said with a satisfied smile. “That’s my boy.”

Simon moaned as Jeff continued to feed him. By the time he was on his third donut, Jeff stop jerking him off and his fingers slipped under the waistband of his briefs, tugging it down to expose Simon’s round butt cheeks. He gave them a slap. Simon was torn between embarrassment and excitement.

“Do you really like my new curves?,” Simon asked.

“You have no idea,” Jeff replied, grabbing another donut.

Simon finished it slowly.

“I can’t eat anymore,” he murmured, his voice shaky.

“Yes, you can,” Jeff said, his hard dick now entering Simon's ass. “For me.”

Jeff gave Simon another donut.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Jeff said, his voice thick with desire. “And you’re going to let me love every inch of you.”

***

A few months passed, and Simon barely recognized himself. His once-fitted clothes had long been replaced by stretchier options that could accommodate his growing figure. His belly was soft and round, resting comfortably over the waistband of his sweatpants, and his hips and thighs had thickened noticeably, giving him a fuller, almost plush appearance. Jeff, of course, was over the moon. His constant attention and affection made it impossible for Simon to feel anything but adored, even as he packed on more weight. Simon loved how Jeff’s eyes would light up every time he grabbed an extra helping or indulged in the treats Jeff always seemed to have on hand.

One Saturday afternoon, Simon sat on the couch of his shared apartment in his underwear, lazily scrolling through his phone. Michael arrived after being on a date.

“Holy crap,” he blurted out, his wide eyes scanning Simon’s body. “Look at you”

Simon glanced up.

“What?”

“You’ve gotten huge!” Michael said, gesturing toward Simon’s belly. “Is this Jeff’s doing?”

Simon shrugged, trying to hide his smile.

“He just likes spoiling me, okay?”

“Simon,” Michael said, exasperated. “You were, like, a twink icon, and now—” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I mean, are you happy?”

Simon looked down at himself, running a hand over his soft stomach. He thought about Jeff—the way he looked at Simon, touched him, worshiped him—and nodded.

“Yeah. I am.”

Michael groaned.

“Whatever.”

Simon was sprawled on Jeff’s bed later that night, recounting the interaction while Jeff rubbed his fat belly, grinning like he’d won the lottery.

“He called me huge.”

Jeff chuckled.

“He’s right,” Jeff said, his voice low and reverent. “You are huge now.”

Simon blushed.

“My sexy ex-twink,” Jeff murmured, pressing kisses to his belly. “You’ve let me take care of you so well. And look at you now. You’re perfect.”

His hands roamed freely, exploring every curve, every new softness. Simon shivered, his embarrassment melting under Jeff’s touch and words. He loved how much Jeff adored him, how desired he felt despite—or maybe because of—his growing body.

“You’re mine,” Jeff said. “My beautiful, fat boy. And I’m going to keep loving you—and feeding you—for as long as you let me.”

Simon moaned as Jeff’s mouth engulfed his dick. He didn’t really care about Michael’s reaction or the numbers on the scale. All that mattered was Jeff and the way he made him feel like the most cherished person in the world.

Jeff stirred awake, the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he turned his head to see Simon already sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stretched, his arms reaching overhead, and Jeff couldn’t take his eyes off the way his soft belly rounded and shifted with the movement. His love handles curved gently over the waistband of his new briefs, which had also grown so tight that they seemed to struggle to contain him. The fabric cut into his hips, emphasizing the generous swell of his behind, which jiggled slightly as he stood. Jeff bit his lip as Simon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the too-small briefs and tugged them down, revealing the full glory of Simon’s ass. It was round and plush, its fullness accentuated by the way it swayed naturally with each step toward the bathroom. His thighs rubbed together as he walked, the soft flesh shifting with every movement. As Simon stepped into the bathroom, Jeff heard the sound of the shower starting, water splashing against the tiles. He couldn’t resist any longer. Throwing the covers aside, he padded across the room and slipped into the steamy bathroom.

“Jeff!” Simon exclaimed, half-turning to look at Jeff.

“Couldn’t stay in bed,” Jeff said with a hard-on.

The water ran down Simon’s body in rivulets, highlighting every curve. His belly glistened under the spray, the soft flesh jiggling slightly as he shifted his weight. Jeff’s hands found Simon’s hips almost instinctively, pulling him close.

“You’re stunning,” Jeff murmured, his voice husky.

Simon rolled his eyes, though his lips curved into a shy smile.

“Well, I'm almost 300 pounds.”

Jeff's fingers started kneading Simon's belly, marveling at its warmth and softness.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered.

Simon shivered as Jeff’s hands slid lower, tracing the curve of his thighs before moving back up to cup his ass. Jeff squeezed gently, his hands full.

“You’re obsessed,” Simon said, his voice breathy.

“Completely,” Jeff admitted, planting a kiss on Simon’s lips. “You’re everything to me. I love you”

“I love you too, but I'm worried I'll never be fat enough for you.”

Simon turned around and leaned against the smooth tile. Jeff's hands rested on Simon’s thick waist, fingers sinking slightly into the soft flesh. His round belly jiggled slightly with every shift, and his love handles spilled over Jeff’s large hands. Jeff’s touch was deliberate, reverent, as he let his palms slide along Simon’s sides, squeezing gently. Then his hands moved up, cupping Simon’s chest. His thumbs grazed over Simon’s soft man boobs, teasing the sensitive nipples. Simon gasped, arching his back slightly. Jeff leaned down to kiss the curve of Simon’s neck.

“I want to pamper you even more.”

Simon's belly quivered as Jeff’s hands wandered lower, gripping the wide curve of his ass.

“Even more?” Simon asked.

Jeff’s grip tightened, and he kneaded the round flesh, his hard dick digging into the softness.

“Oh, much more,” he said.

#gainer stories #gaining fat #gaining kink #gaining weight on purpose #gay gainer #gainer fiction

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growthhyp · 1 month ago

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Amazing stories! Would be hot to seem some dad/son stories.

The Milk Carton

James, a 40-year-old male with a skinny flat body, standing tall and straight as an arrow, reflecting his strong and unwavering sexual preference. He is dressed casually in a baggy pink shirt that complements his bright skin color, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thin arms, showcasing his meticulous nature and attention to detail, much like the work he does as an accountant. His short, blonde, straight hair is neatly styled, framing a gentle smile that lights up the room. In the background is a cozy living room, filled with the warmth of home and a hint of his organized lifestyle. Sitting across from James on a comfortable sofa is his son, Elijah, who shares the same bright skin tone and blonde hair. At 18 years old, Elijah is also slim and fit, mirroring his father's physique. He wears a gray hoodie and jeans, his youthful energy and curiosity visible in his posture. With his eyes slightly cast down, Elijah is absorbed in a conversation with James, displaying his shyness but also the deep love he holds for his father. Both of them are engaged in a heartfelt moment, with a sense of understanding and mutual respect, as Elijah follows in James' footsteps, pursuing a career in accounting. The room is adorned with subtle hints of their shared interests, creating an inviting and harmonious environment that celebrates their bond. Despite their different sexual preferences, the unspoken connection between them is palpable, as they share a passion for numbers and a love for each other that transcends any labels or expectations.

After the discussion, Elijah retreats to his sanctuary, his bedroom. He closes the door with a gentle click, the sound echoing through the corridor. His room is a stark contrast to the rest of the house, a cocoon of his own personality, filled with vibrant colors. The walls are lined with bookshelves, their contents revealing his love for fantasy and adventure. His computer, a gateway to his digital world, sits on a neatly organized desk, surrounded by notebooks and textbooks, a testament to his academic pursuits.

With the door closed, Elijah feels a sense of liberation. He opens his laptop and logs into his Tumblr account, his heart racing with anticipation. The screen flickers to life, displaying a dashboard filled with images of muscular men in various states of undress. His eyes widen, and his breath quickens as he scrolls through the feed, each picture more enticing than the last. The men are chiseled, their bodies sculpted by what seems like the gods themselves. The sight of them fills him with a warmth that spreads through his body, igniting a spark of desire in his loins.

He pulls off his shirt, revealing his own flat chest and slender frame. Elijah's gaze lingers on his reflection in the mirror, a silent reminder of the physique he craves. He runs his fingers over his chest, imagining the feel of solid muscles beneath his fingertips. He takes a deep breath and lets his hand drift down to the waistband of his jeans. With trembling fingers, he unbuttons them and slides the fabric down his legs, stepping out of them with a sense of urgency.

Elijah's hand wraps around his cock, stroking it gently as he sits on the edge of his bed. His eyes remain glued to the screen, watching as the men in the images flex and pose for the camera. Each stroke is a silent plea for transformation, a wish to embody the strength and dominance that he sees in the men before him. His cheeks flush with arousal as he picks up the pace, his breaths coming faster and more ragged. The room is filled with the sound of his hand moving against his skin, a rhythmic dance that matches the pounding in his chest.

His body responds with a spasm of pleasure, and with a soft and quiet groan, Elijah ejaculates, his seed spurting onto the fabric of his favorite pillow. The sensation is overwhelming. He collapses back onto the bed, his body shaking with the intensity of his climax. The room is quiet once more, the only evidence of his passion the sticky mess on his stomach and the soft, satisfied smile on his lips.

As he cleans himself up, Elijah's mind wanders to the outside world. He opens his phone and logs into his social media account. Scrolling through the feed, a vibrant poster catches his eye. "CARNIVAL COMING SOON!" it reads, with images of flashing lights and thrilling rides. His heart leaps at the sight of it. The carnival is opening just a short bike ride away. It's an opportunity too tempting to ignore.

With newfound excitement, Elijah walks out of his room, the scent of his desire still lingering in the air. He finds James in the kitchen, preparing dinner. "Hey, Dad," he says, trying to sound casual. "Could I go to the carnival tomorrow afternoon?"

James looks up from the stove, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He wipes his hand on his apron, leaving a smudge of flour on his cheek. "The carnival, huh? What's the occasion?"

Elijah shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just thought it'd be fun to check out the new rides and stuff."

James nods, his expression a blend of amusement and concern. "Alright, be safe. And don't let those carnies sweet-talk you into anything, you know how they can be."

Elijah laughs, the sound light and carefree. "I'll be fine, Dad. I've got street smarts," he says, flashing a grin that James can't help but return.

With a nod of approval, James goes back to cooking, his mind drifting to the pile of paperwork waiting for him in his home office. Meanwhile, Elijah heads to the bathroom, the anticipation of tomorrow's adventure buzzing through him like an electric current. He brushes his teeth, the minty toothpaste a refreshing counterpoint to the lingering scent of his desire.

===

The next morning, Elijah wakes with a start, his body heavy and his thoughts immediately drifting to the carnival. He glances down and notices the familiar outline of his morning erection pushing against the fabric of his briefs. With a smirk, he reaches down to adjust himself, his hand grazing the sensitive skin. His thoughts of the carnival and the men he'll see there only add to his arousal. He quickly takes care of his morning routine, eager to get dressed and set out for the day.

The sun is high in the sky when he arrives at the carnival, the air thick with the smells of popcorn and cotton candy. The vibrant colors of the rides and games assault his senses, and the laughter and music create an intoxicating symphony that fills his soul. The crowd is a sea of people, all shapes and sizes, their faces alight with excitement and wonder. Elijah weaves through the throngs of visitors, his eyes darting from one attraction to the next, searching for something fun to do.

And then he sees it. A tent, standing tall and proud, with a sign that reads "The Greatest Sebastian - Your Wishes, Our Command!" Below the words is an illustration of a wizard, his muscles bulging as he holds a staff adorned with a crystal that seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy. Elijah's heart skips a beat, and without a moment's hesitation, he strides toward it. The flap of the tent opens with a flourish, and he steps inside, his eyes widening in amazement.

Before him is Sebastian, the very embodiment of masculine perfection. He's a towering figure with a body that seems to have been carved from marble by a master sculptor. His long, curly brown hair cascades down his broad shoulders, and his piercing yellow eyes seem to see into the depths of Elijah's soul. He's dressed in a velvet magician's robe that hides his incredible physique, but Elijah can't help but imagine the rippling muscles that surely lie beneath. On the table in front of him sits a single, glowing white orb that seems to pulsate.

Sebastian looks up from his crystal ball with a knowing smile, his teeth a dazzling white against his tanned skin. "Welcome, young man," he says, his voice a rich baritone that sends shivers down Elijah's spine. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Elijah clears his throat, trying to find the right words. "Well, I… I've heard that you can grant wishes," he stammers, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and hope.

Sebastian's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Ah, a young soul seeking change," he says, stroking his chin. "What is it that you wish for? Riches, fame, perhaps a lover's heart?"

Elijah's gaze lingers on the wizard's bulging biceps, and he swallows hard. "I… I want to be like you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be strong, muscular, and… dominant."

Sebastian's eyes narrow, and he leans in closer, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "A noble aspiration, indeed," he says, his smile turning into a smirk. "But such transformations are not for the faint of heart. They come with great power, but also great… changes."

Elijah's eyes light up with determination, his voice steady. "I'm not faint of heart," he says firmly. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, his smile never wavering. "Very well," he says, his tone dripping with amusement. "But remember, once you embark on this journey, there is no turning back."

Elijah nods, his heart pounding in his chest. "I understand," he says, his voice strong and steady.

Sebastian rises from his chair, his movements fluid and graceful despite his towering frame. He gestures to a shelf behind him, where an assortment of bottles and jars glint in the soft light of the tent. He reaches for a bottle that seems to call out to him, its crystal surface shimmering with an ethereal glow. It's filled with a white liquid that swirls hypnotically when he holds it up to the light. The potion is contained in a simple glass bottle with a cork stopper, sealed with a crimson wax that matches the color of the wizard's robe. The muscular man's hand dwarfs the container as he holds it out to Elijah.

"This," he says, his voice low and serious, "is a potion of transformation. Drink from it, and you shall become as I am: a man of great strength and power." His eyes dance with mischief as he adds, "But remember, young one, with great power comes great… attraction to those of your kind."

Elijah takes the bottle with trembling hands, the weight of the potion seeming to echo the gravity of the decision he's about to make. "What do you mean by 'those of my kind'?" he asks, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Sebastian's smirk deepens, his yellow eyes gleaming. "The potion has a peculiar side effect," he says, leaning in to whisper in Elijah's ear. "It tends to… enhance one's attraction to the same gender. You, my dear, will crave the touch of men as you never have before."

Elijah's eyes widen, but the excitement in his voice is clear. "I'm okay with that," he says, his voice barely audible. "I'm… I'm already…"

Sebastian's smile softens, his eyes filled with understanding. "You're already aware of your desires," he says gently. "That's good. The potion will simply amplify what's already within you. But remember, young man, it's not just about physical changes. The transformation will also alter your very essence, shaping your identity in ways you can't begin to imagine."

Elijah nods, his heart racing with excitement and anticipation. He takes the bottle from Sebastian's hand, the cool glass a stark contrast to his warm, sweaty palm. "Thank you," he murmurs, the words thick with emotion.

"Ah, but nothing in life is free, my young friend," Sebastian says, holding up a hand to stop him. "The price for such a transformation is steep. I require your payment in cold, hard cash."

Elijah's stomach flips, but his desire is stronger than his doubt. He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out his wallet, counting the crumpled bills with trembling fingers. "How much?"

Sebastian names a sum that seems exorbitant, but to Elijah, it's a price he's willing to pay for the body of his dreams. He hands over the money without hesitation, his eyes never leaving the potion. The wizard takes the cash, his grin widening as he counts the bills. "Ah, the currency of desperation," he says, tucking the money into a velvet pouch at his side.

Elijah pockets the bottle, his heart racing. He thanks Sebastian and practically sprints out of the tent, the sound of the carnival fading behind him as he makes his way home. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more exhilarating than the last. He can't wait to be alone in his room, to drink the potion and finally become the man he's always envied.

===

Once home, he slips into the kitchen, his eyes immediately drawn to the refrigerator. He opens the door and glances around, ensuring that James is nowhere in sight. The milk carton is exactly where he left it that morning, almost empty but with enough room for the potion. He opens the bottle and carefully pours the swirling white liquid into the remaining milk, watching as the two blend together. The potion's glow dims slightly as it mixes with the milk, but the energy it radiates is undeniable.

Elijah's heart races as he seals the carton and puts it back in the fridge. He glances at the clock; it's almost dinner time. He needs to get cleaned up and pretend that it's just another ordinary evening. With a deep breath, he heads to the bathroom, the bottle now a distant memory in the trash. The hot water of the shower cascades over his body, washing away the sticky sweat from his journey. The scent of the potion lingers on his fingertips, a tantalizing promise of what's to come.

James, on the other hand, is in the throes of a marathon cleaning session. The weekend has arrived, and he's determined to get the house in tip-top shape. He's scrubbed, dusted, and vacuumed every nook and cranny. His eyes are red from the dust, and his throat is parched.

He stumbles into the kitchen, his shirt sticking to his sweaty back. The fridge is a beacon of cold relief, and without thinking twice, he opens the door and grabs the milk carton.

James tilts his head back, the cold liquid cascading down his throat, quenching the fire that burns from his exertion. He pauses, his taste buds catching a hint of something peculiar, something different from the usual blandness of the milk. But thirst is a powerful motivator, and he dismisses the thought, chalking it up to the heat of the day playing tricks on his senses.

As he returns the carton to the refrigerator, the cold air hits his bare chest, causing his nipples to pebble. The room spins for a brief moment, and he sways on his feet, catching himself before he topples over. He chuckles at his own clumsiness and wipes the bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The carton feels heavier than before, the remaining 1/5 of the contents sloshing around like a silent taunt.

James stumbles towards his bedroom, his legs feeling like jelly. He's not sure what's happening to him, but the sensation is unlike anything he's ever felt. The warmth spreads from his core, radiating outward, enveloping his entire body in a gentle heat that's both comforting and disconcerting.

Suddenly, his legs seem to come alive, swelling and stretching before his very eyes. His feet feel massive, the skin taut and unyielding as his calves balloon to almost comical proportions. His blue pants are now nothing but shreds of fabric, clinging to his rapidly growing limbs. He looks down in shock, watching as his legs morph into powerful, muscular pillars of strength that resemble nothing of his former self.

James' hand fumbles to his crotch, feeling the fabric of his underwear strain against his growing cock. He gasps as it swells, the pressure building until the waistband snaps, the briefs falling away to reveal his new, massive erection. It stands tall and proud, thick veins pulsing with the potion's power. His testicles, now heavy and full, hang low between his legs. He can't help but touch himself, the sensation overwhelming. His hand wraps around his shaft, and he groans in pleasure as he feels his body respond to his own touch.

The transformation isn't finished yet. James' torso starts to expand, his chest puffing out as if inflated by an invisible pump. His ribcage widens, and the skin stretches taut over the burgeoning muscles beneath. The white sando he's wearing strains to contain his newfound bulk, the fabric stretching until it finally gives way with a resounding rip. His abs, once a sad six-pack, now form a perfect 10-pack, each muscle clearly defined and rippling with power. His pectorals balloon outward, pressing against his skin. His back muscles spasm, the tendons standing out in stark relief as they swell with newfound power. His shoulders broaden, making him seem even more Herculean.

As his arms begin to grow, James can feel the potion coursing through his veins, a tingling sensation that's both exhilarating and terrifying. The muscles in his biceps and triceps swell, bulging with newfound strength. His forearms thicken, the veins becoming more prominent as his hands grow to match his new frame. His fingers elongate and thicken, each digit now a testament to the power within him. His newfound biceps and triceps stand out like rounded boulders, begging to be touched and admired.

The potion's effects soon reach his face, and James gasps as he feels the skin around his eyes tighten and the lines around his mouth fade away. His cheeks plump up, giving him the youthful glow of an 18-year-old. The stubble on his chin retreats, leaving behind smooth, hairless skin that seems to glow with vitality. He runs his hand over his face, the touch of his fingers alien on the youthful contours. His eyes widen with shock as he looks in the mirror, seeing the reflection of a man who could be his own son. The only hint of his true age is the hint of curiosity and fear in his gaze.

James' body is now a masterpiece of masculine beauty, and he can't resist the urge to explore it further. He starts jerking his huge cock, the motion slow and deliberate. The feeling is unlike anything he's ever experienced, the potion amplifying every sensation. The veins bulge and pulse as he works his shaft, his moans growing louder with each stroke. His balls are heavy with cum, and the anticipation of release is almost unbearable. His hand is a blur, moving up and down with a mind of its own, driven by a primal need that's been unlocked within him.

But as he tries to think of the women he's been with, their faces and bodies failing to arouse him. His mind is a blank canvas, until images of muscular men start to flood his thoughts, their sculpted forms and piercing gazes igniting a fire deep in his soul. He tries to push them away, to focus on the familiar, but the potion's power is too strong. His hand moves faster, his strokes more urgent, as he imagines the touch of those men's strong hands on his body, their lips on his, their cocks inside him. The very thought sends a shockwave of pleasure through him, and he feels his body respond, his cock growing even harder in his grip.

Elijah finishes his shower and wraps a towel around his waist, the steam from the bathroom clinging to his skin. He walks into the kitchen, he opens the fridge, his hand reaching for the milk carton on autopilot, when something catches his eye. It's lighter than before, almost empty.

A muffled sound of pleasure reaches his ears, echoing through the hallway from his father's bedroom. Curiosity and confusion swirl within him as he tiptoes towards the door, straining to listen. The moaning grows louder, unmistakable in its urgency. It's definitely a man's voice, but it's not his father's. Elijah's heart races as he gently turns the doorknob and peeks in.

What greets him is a scene he could never have anticipated. There, in the place where James should be, lies a muscular 18-year-old boy, his skin glistening with sweat, his body a sculpted work of art that matches the men from Elijah's fantasies. The stranger's eyes are closed in ecstasy, his mouth open in a silent scream as his hand moves rapidly over his thick, erect cock. The sight is both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Elijah stumbles back, his mind racing. This can't be his father. The man before him is too young, too perfect. Panic sets in, and he retreats to his bedroom, his heart hammering in his chest.

He locks the door behind him, his thoughts spinning wildly. He must be dreaming, or maybe he's hallucinating. But the sound of footsteps, heavy and deliberate, echo through the house. They're real. The intruder is real.

Elijah's eyes dart around his room, searching for anything he can use as a weapon. His hand closes around a heavy book, but he knows it won't be enough. Then he remembers the potion. If Sebastian's claims are true, then he too can become a tower of strength. He rushes to the kitchen, his heart in his throat, and grabs the milk carton from the fridge.

The liquid inside is barely a quarter of its former volume. He quickly downs the remaining potion, the sweet taste of milk mixing with something else, something potent and powerful. He feels a warmth spread through him, starting in his stomach and moving outwards to his extremities. His body begins to tingle, and he knows that the transformation has begun.

Elijah retreats to his bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't lock the door. What if the intruder comes in? But the potion's magic is already working, and he's too focused on the changes happening to his body to worry about anything else. He sets the carton on his nightstand and watches in the mirror as his reflection starts to shift.

The towel around his waist feels tighter, and he looks down to see his cock growing, thick and hard. It's as if it has a mind of its own, reaching for the fabric as if to break free. He gasps, his hand moving to cover his mouth, as he watches his abs ripple and multiply, forming a perfect 10-pack that he's always dreamed of. His chest swells, filling out the space between his pecs and stomach, the muscles growing more defined with every second that passes. His skin stretches and tightens, the towel now a mere strip of material clinging to his burgeoning physique.

Elijah's legs, once skinny and unremarkable, now balloon with muscle, pushing him back onto the bed. He feels the mattress sink beneath the weight of his new body. His legs, now thick and powerful, are a work of art, each muscle clearly defined. He runs his hand over his newfound bulk, the sensation foreign and exhilarating. His calves bulge and his thighs thicken, the fabric of his towel giving way to reveal his massive cock and balls.

His arms follow suit, growing longer and more muscular. He watches, his eyes wide with wonder, as his biceps and triceps swell with power. His shoulders broaden, the towel slipping away to reveal a body that's no longer his own. His skin stretches taut over his newfound muscles, the veins standing out like rivers of life beneath the surface. His fingers elongate, the sensation strange and thrilling as he flexes his hands, feeling the strength that now courses through them.

The tingling sensation in Elijah's back intensifies, and he feels his spine stretch and realign. His shoulders pull back, and a defined V taper forms, highlighting the stark contrast between his narrow waist and broad back. He gasps as his ribcage expands, the sound echoing through the room. His face, once a reflection of his youthful curiosity, now takes on a more mature, angular structure, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His nose becomes more aquiline, and his lips fuller, framing a smile that promises both strength and sensuality.

But it's the sudden onslaught of testosterone that truly overwhelms him. His mind is bombarded by a deluge of sexual desire, so intense it's almost painful. Every nerve in his body is alive with new sensations, each one more electrifying than the last. The potion's power courses through his veins like molten lava, setting every inch of his skin alight with arousal. He can feel his cock growing even thicker, the weight of it heavy and demanding against his abs. His balls swell, the ache of impending release growing more insistent by the second.

James can't fight it anymore. He gives in to the potion's power, his hand moving faster and faster over his shaft. He feels the orgasm building, a pressure that threatens to consume him. His moans grow louder, and his hips buck involuntarily. His body is no longer his own, a marionette dancing on the strings of his newfound desires.

With a roar that echoes through the house, James climaxes. Cum spurts from his cock like a geyser, painting the walls and floor with his thick, white seed. The force of his release sends waves of pleasure throughout his transformed body, each muscle contracting in ecstasy. He collapses onto the bed, panting and spent.

Elijah, still in the throes of his own transformation, can't ignore the commotion. The intruder's moans of pleasure have turned to gasps for breath, and the smell of sex fills the air. He clenches the book tightly, steeling himself for what he might find. He opens his bedroom door and tiptoes down the hall, his newfound muscles flexing with each step.

The door to his father's room is ajar, and through the crack, he sees the figure of a man sitting on the edge of the bed. His heart stops as he recognizes James' bed, the bed he's slept in countless nights, now stained with a puddle of cum.

James sees the shadow in the doorway and turns, his eyes locking onto Elijah. For a moment, there's confusion in his gaze, as if he's seeing a ghost. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He tries to stand, his muscular legs protesting the sudden movement. "E…Elijah?" he finally manages, his voice a mix of wonder and fear.

Elijah's heart skips a beat. That's his father's voice, but the body? It's the stuff of his wildest dreams. "Dad?" he whispers, the word barely making it past the lump in his throat. The man before him looks up, and in those piercing blue eyes, Elijah sees the unmistakable spark of recognition.

James' eyes widen, taking in Elijah's new form. "What…what's happened to us?" he stammers, his voice a mix of shock and awe. The potion's power seems to hum in the air between them, a palpable force that neither can ignore.

Elijah swallows hard, his hand tightening on the book. "I… I don't know," he says, his voice shaking. "But… I think we should talk."

James nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the book in Elijah's hand before lifting to meet his son's eyes again. "Yeah," he says, his voice a gruff whisper. "Talk."

But talking seems to be the last thing on either of their minds as the potion's power surges through them, drawing them closer together. Before Elijah can say another word, James is on his feet, his massive frame towering over his son. The younger man's hand falls away from the book, his arm muscles flexing involuntarily as he watches his father approach.

Their eyes lock, the tension in the air thick with unspoken desires. Without warning, James leans in, his newfound strength and confidence driving him forward. His hand cups the back of Elijah's head, and their lips meet in a kiss that's equal parts tender and hungry. Elijah's eyes flutter closed, his body responding instinctively to the touch of the man he's always admired.

Their tongues dance together, exploring and tasting, as their hands roam over each other's transformed bodies. Elijah's strong, muscular arms wrap around James' broad back, feeling the heat of his newfound power. James' hands glide over Elijah's sculpted chest, the muscles flexing beneath his touch like living marble. Each caress sends sparks of pleasure through them, the potion's magic amplifying their senses to an unprecedented level.

Their kiss deepens, growing more urgent as the desire between them builds. Elijah can feel James' cock, now fully engorged and heavy, pressing against his stomach. It's a sensation that sends a jolt of excitement straight to his own groin, his cock pulsing with need.

James breaks the kiss, his eyes blazing with passion. He gently pushes Elijah back onto the bed, the mattress groaning beneath their combined weight. His hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of his son's newfound muscles. He can't believe this is happening, but the potion's power is too strong to resist.

Elijah's body responds to James' touch, his cock standing at attention as his father's fingers trace a line down his chest and stomach. The anticipation is agonizing, a sweet torment that makes him ache for more. He watches, his breath hitching, as James' hand wraps around his shaft, the older man's grip firm and sure.

James's gaze never leaves Elijah's face, his eyes searching for any sign of fear or hesitation. But what he sees instead is a hunger that matches his own, a need that's been stoked by the potion and their shared transformation. With a gentle tug, he guides Elijah's cock to the side, exposing his puckered hole.

The tip of James's massive cock, now slick with precum, hovers at the entrance to Elijah's ass. Elijah feels a mix of terror and excitement as he prepares to accept his father in the most intimate way possible. The heat of James's shaft sends shivers down his spine, and he can't help but arch his back, offering himself up.

With a low growl, James lines himself up and pushes in, the potion's magic allowing him to breach Elijah's tight hole with surprising ease. Elijah gasps as he's filled to the brim, his body stretching to accommodate his father's girth. James takes a moment to savor the feeling before pulling almost all the way out, only to slam back in, his balls slapping against Elijah's ass with a wet smack.

Their bodies move in a rhythmic dance of passion, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through Elijah, his moans growing louder as James hits all the right spots. James' muscles flex and bulge with every movement, the potion's power evident in every powerful thrust. Elijah can feel his father's strength, the weight of his new body pressing him into the mattress.

Their breaths mingle, both men lost in the moment, the only sounds the grunts and gasps of their shared passion. James' hand wraps around Elijah's cock, the friction of his palm against the sensitive skin driving him closer and closer to the edge. Elijah's eyes roll back in his head, his hips bucking up to meet every thrust. The potion's power is a drug, a heady mix of arousal and confusion that only seems to make the sensations more intense.

James feels it building within him, the pressure in his balls reaching a fever pitch. He can't hold back any longer. With one final, powerful thrust, he lets out a roar that shakes the room, his cock pulsing as he empties himself inside Elijah. The warmth and wetness of his cum fills the space between them, a testament to the bond that's been forged in the crucible of the potion's magic.

At the same moment, Elijah's body tenses, his own orgasm ripping through him like a bolt of lightning. He cums in thick ropes, the sensation so intense that his vision blurs. The potion has not only transformed their bodies but also their very beings, stripping away any remaining barriers between them.

As the aftershocks of pleasure begin to fade, the reality of what they've just done sets in. James pulls out slowly, his cock still half-hard, and they both lay there, panting and staring at the ceiling. The silence is deafening, the weight of their actions pressing down on them like a heavy blanket.

Elijah is the first to speak, his voice a soft whisper. "Dad, what have we done?" The tremble in his tone betrays his fear and confusion.

James turns to look at his son, his new muscular body a stark contrast to the man Elijah has known all his life. "I don't know," he admits, his voice gruff with emotion. "But it's what the potion did to us."

Elijah nods, his own muscles still quivering from the intense pleasure of their union. They need to clean up, to process what's happened.

He pushes himself up from the bed, his body feeling both new and unfamiliar. He walks to his father's dresser, his muscular legs moving with a newfound grace. He opens the drawer and pulls out a pair of black shorts, feeling the soft fabric in his hand. The sight of them sends a thrill through his body, a symbol of the power and masculinity he's always envied in the men he desires. He steps into them, the shorts hugging his muscular thighs and accentuating his now prominent bulge.

James watches, his eyes taking in Elijah's new form, the potion-induced changes making it clear that his son is no longer a boy. The white shorts Elijah throws to him seem to glow in the dim light of the room, a stark contrast to the black Elijah has chosen. He sluggishly rises, his legs feeling like they're made of lead. He pulls the shorts on, the fabric stretching to cover his own massive thighs and the heavy weight of his cum-covered cock. The shorts fit surprisingly well, hugging his new body in a way that makes him feel both exposed and powerful.

"We need to talk," James says, his voice still unsteady. "We can't just…go on like this."

Elijah nods, his heart racing as he looks at his father's transformed body. "I know," he whispers. "What do we do?"

James takes a deep breath, his mind racing. "We can't tell anyone," he says, his voice firm. "We'll say I'm your cousin."

Elijah nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Okay, from now on, you're Joe."

"Joe," James repeats, testing out the name that now fits the youthful, muscular form he finds himself in. The lie feels strange on his tongue, but he knows it's a necessary one.

"Elijah, your dad had to leave for an overseas job," Joe says, the words feeling more real with each passing second. "We're all alone in this house now."

Elijah nods, the lie a protective shield around their new reality. "Yeah," he murmurs, his eyes still glued to his father's transformed body. "It's just you and me."

Their smiles are tentative, a blend of relief and the beginnings of excitement. They're in this together, two men who share more than just a surname. Joe runs a hand over his new abs, feeling the ridges and valleys of muscle that now define his physique. Elijah's gaze follows the movement, his own smile growing a little bolder.

#muscle growth stories #jockification #jock tf #personality change #male transformation #straight to gay #father/son #de aging

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