Helping a Brother Out part 1

By The Flesh Lab published March 13, 2019
thefleshlab@gmail.com
Summary

When his buddy Ron gets dumped, Tamal turns to The Flesh Lab for help.

I was letting Ron stay with me at the time. His girlfriend, Angie, had kicked him out after two years of them being together. She told him he had a low sex-drive, low testosterone, he wasn’t a man. She started dating some swarthy Latino looking guy with a hairy chest and a mustache. Ron was crushed ‘cause he had none of that shit and couldn’t complete.

I was like, “Man, don’t even worry about it. You’ll find someone else. I’m gonna help you. We gonna get you back in the game.”

But it wasn’t only that I wanted to help him get laid, it was that I wanted him to be happier, more confident, have some swagger, and take some pride in himself. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but not someone you’d take a second glance at. At least, not back then. He was tall, skinny, kind of had a hooked nose. Brown hair, blue eyes. Gap between his front teeth. Not too much in the muscles department, but he did try. Slouchy posture, like a lot of tall guys. Not all that hung either from what I remember, but he was white so it was to be expected. Big hands and feet though.

And me, I always was good looking, didn’t never have any problem getting laid, if anything it was the opposite, girls was always trying to get with me. Which is kind of ironic these days, although I’m sure they wanna get with me even more now, but these days it’s like whatever.

I wouldn’t say Ron was a nerd, but when I came back from college he’d definitely been tamed by the corporate system. Always worried about tucking his shirt in, keeping his tie tight. He’d started wearing glasses too. Which, you know, ain’t nothing wrong with any of that. Ain’t nothing wrong with a man looking sharp and dressing to kill. But this wasn’t that. This was him wearing boring-ass pleated khakis and a light blue button-down shirt, like every day.

So when Angie kicked him out, I was like, man, we gotta change up your look. Get you to the gym more. Get you out to the clubs. Make it happen for you.

And I tried, but mostly he sat around the apartment and moped. Or we’d go out and he’d mope, sit at the bar and get shit-faced and cry into his beer. He’d kind of putz around at the gym. I’d be asking for a spot and he wouldn’t even be paying attention.

I knew I had to do something more drastic. That’s when, searching online, I found this, I don’t even know what to call it, a company I guess, The Flesh Lab. They offered to make you slimmer, smarter, better looking. It seemed too good to be true, of course, but I thought why not?

I wrote to them, told them Ron’s story, how we was practically brothers, how I was trying to help him out, get him laid, make a new man outta him. They charged my credit card and sent me a bottle of lube.

For real. I was like, what the fuck is this? The instructions were: Apply liberally. I thought, how am I gonna give him a bottle of lube and be like: Use this. The man couldn’t even get laid, what was he gonna do with this lube?

Luckily back then he did use lube. To jerk off if nothing else. He was cut, which I knew that from the locker room. I was too, which was unusual ‘cause most the black guys on our team were not. But the white guys they almost always were cut.

So, when he wasn’t home, I went into his stuff and poured out his old bottle, and filled it with the new lube. Made sure I didn’t get it all over the place. And that was that. I waited.

I felt ripped off, of course. And nothing happened for I don’t even know how long. A few days. And then one day after a workout, we was changing at the gym, and I noticed he was looking pretty good. His shoulders were filling out. His pecs were coming in. I was like, bro you’re looking swole. He just laughed and thanked me. None of that was too unusual ‘cause he’d been working out more. But when he took off his shirt, I noticed he had some dark hairs growing in the middle of his chest, and a trail of hair down from his bellybutton. I was sure he didn’t have those before. And when he dropped his shorts, I almost spit out my protein shake. His pubes were nearly black, and when his cock flopped out it was not only bigger, but darker. I mean, I wasn’t no expert on the appearance of his cock back then, but I know it was normally pink. It wasn’t no tan. And it wasn’t that thick and heavy before either. So, when I saw that darker cock drop out, I knew he’d been using the lube. And that it was doing something to him.

I was quick to avert my eyes before he caught me looking, of course, but I couldn’t help noticing other guys in the locker room checking him out too, looking at that thick cock like, damn! He stepped past me toward the showers and before he could cover himself, I couldn’t help but see that big, tan cock swinging as he walked. I was like, fuck, that’s what the lube is doing for him?

After the shower I saw him checking himself out in the mirror, towel around his waist. He was flexing, tentatively touching those hairs between his pecs. I could tell he was into it. When we met up out front of the gym he had his shirt unbuttoned to the center, trying to show off those new chest hairs. I was like, look at him. He was feeling himself.

I said, “Let’s go out this weekend. Try to get you laid.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah man, I’d be down for that.”

And I considered that a success. Finally.

He continued to bulk up during the week, and by Friday, when we got ready to go out, I couldn’t help but notice he had even more dark hair showing through the open collar of his shirt. Wasn’t just a few hairs on his chest anymore.

I said, “Damn dude, when you get so hairy!”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s from working out. I got all this testosterone going.”

But of course I knew, or at least suspected, it was from the lube. And his skin was looking better too. Not so white and pasty. He looked like he’d been tanning, like his skin had soaked up some sun and darkened to a deeper shade.

That night, at the club, women couldn’t keep their eyes off him. We got so wasted, shit was a blur. I lost track of him at one point. But I found him in the men’s room, getting a blow job - from a dude!

I shut to door as quick as I could, but Ron saw me anyway. He tried to act all nonchalant about it later and I didn’t say nothing. I just thought, maybe the lube is making him hella horny, like he can’t help himself. I felt a little bit like maybe it was my fault and I should say something. But then again, if he was having fun finally, then whatever.

The next morning I was in the kitchen making some coffee, getting caught up on my laptop, and he stumbled in groaning, just his shorts on, face unshaven, circles under his eyes, looking a wreck.

The hair on his head was all over the place. Not just bed-head, but like it was getting curly and hard to tame. And his face looked a little fucked up, like his nose and lips were swollen. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t know him so well. And the hair on his body had spread out of control. Black and curly now. It covered his muscular pecs in a thick pelt. He scratched his chest and the hair made a scritching noise under his fingers, that’s how fucking dense it was.

This was not the Ron Thompson I knew from a few weeks ago, the thin white dude in the khaki pants. He looked like a whole other man. Big, and thick, and, for lack of a better word, ethnic.

“You alright?” I asked, as he stumbled into the kitchen, but it was pretty obvious he was hung over as fuck.

“No,” he said, putting a hand down his shorts to adjust himself. “Can I get a cup of that too?”

As I poured him some coffee I was like, “Dude, what got into you last night?”

I could also see, since his shirt was off, he’d gotten even hairier than I’d though. As he took the cup off coffee I offered, I noticed his delts and shoulders were hairy too, although he’d tried to shave them. And when he sat down at the counter, I saw the hair on his back had already started to grow in, although he’d obviously shaved it down, he had stubble already, on his back!

“I dunno dude,” he said, nursing his coffee. “I just got hella horny. You’re not gonna spread shit about me, are you? I mean, about last night.”

“How I caught some dude sucking you off?”

He didn’t look at me. “Yeah, about that.”

Of course I wasn’t going to tell nobody, but I let him sweat for a minute until finally I said, “Nah, don’t worry.”

He smiled with relief. “That was the first time I’d ever gotten a blow job from a guy.”

“Sure it is.”

“Fuck you. It felt pretty good actually.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t know.” And that was the God’s honest truth. Back then. “As good as a woman?”

“Not that I got many blow jobs from women, but better than Angie, that’s for sure. He asked me what I was though, which was kind of weird.”

“What do you mean, what you was? Like your ethnicity?” Cause I could see myself starting to wonder the same thing.

“No, was I circumcised or not.”

“What? He couldn’t tell?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s strange.” He took a sip of his coffee and I couldn’t help but look down at his crotch. I could see the heavy outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. Although, oddly, I couldn’t quite see the imprint of his cock head coming thought, the way you usually can with cut guys. “I think I’m loosing my circumcision.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, dude.” He stood up and grabbed his cock though his shorts. It was definitely longer and thicker than before. “It’s like the skin on my dick is loose. It’s like it wants to slide over the head when I’m soft, but goes away once I’m hard.”

“Like a foreskin?”

“No, I don’t think so, ‘cause I’m circumcised. It’s more like, there’s extra skin on my shaft that wants to slide over the head.”

“Yeah, sounds like a foreskin man. Sounds fucked up.”

“Something’s going on with me. Haven’t you noticed? I mean look at this shit.” He ran his hands across his thick pecks, over the dense, curly carpet of black hair growing there. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I mean, it’s like I’m becoming a different person.” With his thick fingers he felt his nose and cheekbones and the dense stubble on his face. Even the gap in his front teeth seemed to be making him look different. And then he held out his muscular arms as if looking at his darker skin tone for the first time. “It’s not natural.”

“You ain’t been tanning or been out in the sun? You been working out pretty heavily. I don’t know what’s going on with your dick though. That’s something between you and it.” But I was lying so hard, cause I did know what was going on. He was using that lube from The Flesh Lab and it was changing him. “Is it so bad though? A lot of guys would be lucky to have your problems.”

He laughed then. “I guess it ain’t the worst thing in the world being hung and handsome, or muscular and manly.” He flexed and posed in the kitchen, showing off his muscles and his hard, hairy body.

And that was when I first realized he was getting bigger than me, in pretty much every way.

It’s not like I wanted to be the bigger one between us or anything, I mean, maybe I did, it’s just that this was all going too far. I wasn’t about to let Ron out-grow me. Fuck that. I’d made a mistake with this whole thing. I knew I had to get that lube back.

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