Make a Wish
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An arrogant hunk finds his wardrobe, and his inhibitions, vanishing piece by piece.
“Hey, so whatever happened to what’s-her-name…Erin? Kara?”
“Erykah?” Jeff kicked his shoes off and draped his carefully-hung work clothes over the back of a chair. His baggy t-shirt, whose sleeves and sides had been cut off, clung damp and heavy with sweat to his solid pecs and flat stomach. After spending all day in a suit and tie he felt like someone being freed from a straight jacket in his loose gym gear. “We’re not a thing anymore,” he said, shaking his head and pulling a six-pack out of the fridge. Having just wrapped up their evening crossfit class he and Dylan were ready to relax and watch the game.
“Really? She seemed fun,” Dylan said, not at all surprised. His friend went through women faster than anyone else he knew, though he couldn’t entirely blame him. Dylan wasn’t gay, but he had no problem admitting that Jeff was objectively the most attractive guy he knew. His friend was a little on the short side at 5’9”, but this only made him seem less threatening. Throw in jet black hair, olive skin, a brooding, handsome face and a killer body, and it was no wonder the handsome stud plowed through hookups. And though Dylan worked just as hard at staying in shape, Jeff took it to another level. The shorter man looked like he was cut from stone, with broad, round shoulders and sculpted pecs that were covered in a light coating of the same raven hair that was always perfectly styled on Jeff’s head, while bulging biceps and triceps gave him a matching set of strong arms that strained noticeably against all of his fitted dress shirts. Though the sleeves always threatened to tear, Jeff needed his shirts tight in order to show off the washboard stomach that tapered alluringly to a tight, trim waistline which only made his perky bubble all the more noticeable as it fought against whatever slacks tried to contain it and the slabs of toned muscles that formed his wide, strong quads. The only shortcoming Dylan could find was the average package that he did his best not to look at whenever they were in the locker room. It wasn’t small, but the short cock and mediocre balls stuffed into Jeff’s boxer briefs weren’t nearly as impressive as the rest of him. Not that the chiseled hunk needed a monster rod. His looks and body were more than enough to get anyone he wanted in his bed.
Unfortunately his attitude usually drove them out just as quickly. Jeff knew exactly how good looking he was, and while he wasn’t aggressively an asshole, to him women were interchangeable. If one didn’t hold his interest he could just as easily find another.
“Fun and crazy. Girl was into some weeeeeiiiiiiiirrrrd shit,” Jeff laughed. “And she hit the roof when she found out I was also hittin’ Tiff at the same time.”
“Imagine that,” Dylan said flatly. He didn’t approve of his friend’s behavior, but he also knew it was pointless to try and get his smug friend to see the error of his ways.
“Whatever dude,” he said defensively. “We never said we were exclusive. I’m only 26, man, I can’t be tied down like that.” Jeff peeled out of the damp t-shirt and tossed it aside before flopping down on the couch opposite Dylan. His gym shorts rode up with his man-spreading, exposing his solid thighs and heavy bulge. He draped one arm behind his head, flexing with the motion and settling into a position that ever so casually drew attention to his firm chest and impressive abs. Even when he was just hanging out with one of his buddies he couldn’t stop showing off.
Dylan shrugged, looking at the TV instead of the other man. “Yo man, it’s your life…do what you want. But that shit’s gonna come back to bite you sooner or later.”
Jeff’s sleep was restless that night. He kept waking up, thinking he heard a woman’s voice. It sounded familiar, but far away, and he couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Whatever it was had a chanting, repetitive quality, but instead of being relaxing the droning hum filled him with dread.
He started awake, soaked in sweat, mistaking his buzzing alarm for the ominous chanting from his dream. “Ugghh…that was the worst night’s sleep I’ve had in a minute,” he mumbled, discovering he’d kicked his sheets and blankets free as if he’d been thrashing in his sleep. He groaned and sniffed at the air, wondering if the strange, pungent smell in the room was coming from him. “Fuck…I should’a showered after all last night.” Jeff finally rolled out of bed and stretched, scratching at the trail of hair leading down his abs as he peeled out of his clinging boxer briefs and stumbled sleepily into the bathroom. He cranked the shower on and took a piss while the water warmed, trying to figure out why he felt so anxious but failing to remember any of the details about his dreams, other than that they were unpleasant.
As soon as he stepped under the warm stream he tried to forget about it all together, thinking about his last night with Tiff instead. His eager cock shot to attention at the thought of the buxom blonde and he started pumping in and out of his hand, his perky cheeks flexing with the motion while his other hand kneaded and tugged at his balls. His pumping hips were like a jackhammer. It was his one speed in bed since, for all his impressive looks, Jeff actually wasn’t any good when it came to fucking. He had stamina, not skill, though he knew he didn’t really need it. As far as he was concerned, as long as he was getting off that was all that mattered. The women got to see him naked in the process, so he considered it a fair trade. He gave one last pump and spasmed, launching a sticky explosion against the shower wall.
Content from his release and forgetting all about his restless sleep he went about his morning routine as usual and headed for work, unaware that across town, a candle was lit with his name on it.
By all accounts, Jeff’s morning was uneventful. He sauntered into the office at his usual time, giving a quick flex of the solid pecs straining against his dress shirt as he flirted with the receptionist on his way to the elevators. He made the same small talk with the same people and got to work on his emails like always. There was nothing to warn him about the abrupt shift when his morning suddenly became anything but normal.
He’d simply left his desk to go pick something up from the printer. This required him to leave his cubicle and walk to the other side of the office floor, a short distance but one that left his world drastically altered. He made it to the printer, but as he turned to walk back towards his desk something suddenly felt different.
“Wha…what the hell?!” he yelped, looking down to discover that his shirt was gone. He still had his maroon, striped tie around his neck, but now it was nestled in the patch of wiry hairs between his suddenly bare, sculpted pecs instead of resting against light blue fabric.
Jeff blushed when he looked back up and saw one of his coworkers giving him a concerned look. She was a middle aged sales rep that he’d flirt with when he needed help with a customer, but he never intended to parade around shirtless in front of her. “Uh…I…uh…excuse me,” he said, darting towards the bathroom. He locked himself in one of the stalls, hyperventilating. “What the fuck…what the fuck…what the fuck…” he stammered over and over again as he poked unbelievingly at his exposed torso. He didn’t understand how one second he could have a shirt on, but then have it disappear the next. His first thought was that he’d somehow left without one, but he told himself that wasn’t possible because he’d been at work for hours. He’d had a meeting with ten other people first thing that very morning. Even if he’d made it past security and through the lobby, surely one of them would have said something. He leaned against the wall, feeling nauseous and dizzy as his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was a text from his coworker and cubicle-mate, Bill. “You okay? Sharon said you looked rough and bolted to the bathroom,” the message read
Jeff’s trembling fingers fumbled to unlock his phone and things only got worse. The screen opened to his facebook page, the last thing he was looking at. He started to minimize the app when his hands started shaking so hard he almost dropped the phone. He’d just changed his profile pic to one of him and the guys from their night out the week before when they’d gone to a ritzy bar to celebrate their friend Todd’s promotion. In the picture he could see Todd, Dylan, Reed and himself. His three friends were dressed to the nines as he remembered, but he was now shirtless. He still had on the tight pants and a bow-tie around his neck, but no shirt.
All Jeff could do was stare at the picture in silence while his brain refused to accept what it saw. That silence was shattered when he gasped, his knees going weak, after pulling up the rest of his photos and saw they’d undergone a similar change. They were all exactly as he remembered, only without a single shirt present in any of them. Even his throwback high school photos featured a shirtless version of himself.
“Jeff? You in here?” Jeff heard Bill come in but couldn’t get his mouth to respond. “Is that you in there?”
“Uh…yeah…” he finally managed, his voice cracking.
“Thought I’d check on you when I didn’t get a text back. You okay, man?”
“Are you sick? Did something happen to someone? You sound rough.” Not knowing what else to do, Jeff swung the door open. He saw the shocked look on Bill’s face and waited for the older man to point out his bare torso. “Jesus, Jeff…you look like shit.”
Jeff just blinked, sure he’d misheard the other man. “Is…does anything seem weird, or, uh, abnormal this morning?” Jeff nodded down at his exposed chest as he asked.
“You mean with you? No, man, everything’s been normal.”
Jeff’s heart started racing. “So I wear this all the time?”
Bill cocked an eyebrow, confused. “I mean, that tie’s a little much, but yeah,” he said as he looked Jeff up and down. “Is this the kinda quiz my wife pulls on me all the time? Are those new pants or something?”
Jeff couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way his coworker could be this good an actor, and even if he was, that didn’t explain the photos. “So the fact that I’m not wearing a shirt isn’t weird at all?”
Now Bill looked really confused. “A what? Shirt? On you? No, of course not. What are you even…where the hell did that come from?”
“But…I should be wearing a…I mean…people wear shirts to work! I had a shirt on this morning!” Even as he said it, Jeff felt a twinge in his brain. It sounded ridiculous.
Bill sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Up a little late last night?” he asked, making a pumping motion with his hips. “Maybe too much to drink?”
“No! I just…I went to the copier and I had a shirt on, and then…then I…” Jeff trailed off. Saying it out loud again made even less sense. He might as well have said he drove to work on an elephant made out of pancakes. And the longer they spoke, the more he seemed to be calming down. He knew on a logical level that it wasn’t normal to be walking around his office shirtless, but it didn’t FEEL wrong. The cool office air on his bare chest, the sensation of the silky tie resting against his tanned skin; it all felt entirely normal. Already his desire to flee was fading. “I think I’m going crazy,” he sighed.
“Too much time in this place’ll do that,” Bill laughed, clapping Jeff on the shoulder. “But, hey, you look better. Did you just have a panic attack or something?”
“Or something,” Jeff said flatly. He followed Bill back out of the bathroom, nodding sheepishly at a passing coworker. Stepping out onto the busy work floor with no shirt brought some of the anxiety rushing back, but not the blind panic he’d originally felt. He stayed close to his desk for the rest of the day, just waiting for the moment that someone would finally notice and say something. He didn’t know whether he should be worried or relieved when they never did. Other than a few people who’d heard about his “freak out” that morning, no one treated him any differently.
He decided to skip his usual routine of crossfit that night. Though the terror had left, his constant sense of unease and embarrassment was exhausting. The only thing he wanted to do was get home and pray that this was all some crazy fluke. As soon as he walked in, he knew that hope was in vain.
“No…no no no no….” Jeff pulled off his tie and opened his dresser to grab an old t-shirt, only to find that there weren’t any. Anywhere. He scoured his entire apartment, but there wasn’t a single shirt to be found. Worse, it wasn’t just the digital photos that had been altered. Somehow even the framed, printed photos that hung on the walls of his apartment now had him shirtless.
His frantic search was interrupted by a knocking on his door. “Dude, THERE you are,” Dylan said, pushing past Jeff into the apartment. “You didn’t meet me beforehand…you weren’t at class…and you’re not answering your phone. Are you dead?”
The taller man’s arrival gave Jeff a slight glimmer of hope. They spent countless hours together, and if anyone would know something was wrong, it was his burly friend. “Dylan! Sorry, it’s been a…long day.”
The beefy man looked over Jeff’s shoulder at the mounds of tossed clothes scattered around the bedroom. “Someone come over after I left last night?”
“No, I wish,” Jeff said quickly. “Look, does anything seem weird about me?” He spread his arms to emphasize his lack of a shirt.
Dylan cocked his head. “Nope…same old jerk who leaves his friend hanging at class.”
“I mean not having a shirt!”
“You never have a shirt,” Dylan scoffed.
Jeff sighed. “Fuck…you too…” he muttered to himself.
“Hey! Fuck YOU too…”
“No, not fuck you…I…” Jeff shook his head, trying to find the right words. “Listen. We hung out last night, right?”
Dylan nodded. “Yep.”
“And we went to the gym, right?” Jeff asked, keeping the desperate edge from his voice.
The shirtless man nodded excitedly. “Good! And then we came back here, yes?”
“Three for three.”
“And I had a shirt on,” Jeff said, a statement, not a question.
Dylan crossed his thick arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side, confused. “Aaaand you lost me. Dude, what is going on with you?”
“Damnit!” Jeff stomped his foot in frustration. “Can I just see your shirt for a second?”
Dylan actually laughed. “What? No!”
“Please!” Jeff was actually begging. “I just need to see it for a second.”
Dylan’s expression changed from confusion to concern. “I mean, if it’ll calm you down…” the brawny man pulled his loose t-shirt off, exposing a torso that was thick with burly muscle.
Jeff practically snatched it out of Dylan’s hands and managed to lift it to his shoulders, but stopped midway. He physically couldn’t put it on. “I…I can’t get it on.”
“Yeah, duh,” Dylan said, grabbing his shirt and successfully pulling it over his broad shoulders.
“But…I can’t just NOT wear shirts!”
“Of course you can. How long have we known each other? Seventh grade? In all that time, have you EVER worn a shirt?”
“Ye…” the word dried up in Jeff’s throat as he realized the ridiculousness of it. “No…I haven’t, have I?”
“There it is,” Dylan said cheerfully, slapping the shorter man on the back. He looked at his friend’s awkward expression for a moment, trying to decide if Jeff needed a drink or a doctor.
They decided to give the first option a try. It had taken some coaxing, but Jeff finally followed Dylan out of his apartment and down the street to their usual dive bar. Physically, the constant presence of the warm evening air on his exposed skin felt perfectly normal, but mentally, all Jeff felt was awkward and embarrassed. He didn’t mind being shirtless at the gym or at the beach, but he’d never stopped to think about what it would feel like outside of those settings. Looking at the fully-clothed people around him, he didn’t feel superior like he did at the gym. All he could think about was how exposed he was. As with the office, if anyone else thought it was odd they didn’t let it show. The bartender treated him the same as always, and the hungry looks he got from men and women alike were no different than he usually experienced.
The drinks helped. Several of them in, he was starting to feel like his old self. “Alright man, I gotta head out,” Dylan said, pushing his stool back. “But it looks like you’ve got a boyfriend,” he winked, giving a quick jerk of his head towards a man who’d been checking Jeff out all night.
Dylan clapped his friend on the shoulder and turned to leave. “Hey, he’s cute. Day you’ve had, getting laid couldn’t hurt.”
Jeff watched Dylan leave, confused. His friend hadn’t sounded like he was kidding. When he turned back around, it was just in time to see the man coming over to take Dylan’s spot.
“Hey man, so what’s your secret?” he asked, flashing a charming grin.
Jeff intended to brush the stranger off, but decided against it as soon as he got a good look at him. The man had a shaggy mop of brown hair and a trim beard that highlighted his bright smile. He looked to be a few years younger but, Jeff noticed as he looked the man up and down, every bit as fit as himself. Even the man’s outfit was familiar. It was the one Jeff always wore when he was on the prowl: a tight, thin t-shirt that showed off his huge pecs and large biceps, coupled with fitted jeans that showed off his sculpted ass and tiny waist. Jeff still had on the tight jeans, but he no longer needed a t-shirt to accentuate his exposed muscles.
Instead of ignoring him, Jeff smiled back and they began comparing workout notes. The man bought Jeff another drink, and soon they were chatting away. When the young man’s hand drifted to Jeff’s thigh, he let it stay. And when the young man asked if he wanted to leave with him, surprisingly he said yes.
Jeff’s mind was racing the entire walk back to his apartment. He kept telling himself he wasn’t really taking a guy home. When the young man threw himself at him as soon as the door closed and they began trading sloppy kisses, he told himself he was just drunk, even as he peeled the young hunk’s shirt off. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to have another man’s firm, muscled body pressed against his own. He was used to soft and smooth, but the aching cock begging to be freed from his tight pants told him that solid and rough was every bit as good.
He had the young man’s pants down in a flash and wasted no time with his small briefs, feeling a rush of insecurity when a significantly larger cock sprang free. He grabbed it and squeezed, his heart racing. Jeff hadn’t felt like this since the first time he’d fooled around with a girl. Now, with this young, naked adonis in his arms, it might as well have been his first time all over again.
Jeff stroked and tugged on the long cock while the young man worked his own pants and boxer briefs down before grinning and dropping to his knees.
“Oh!” Jeff gasped when his new friend wrapped his lips around his oozing cock and began bobbing his head. The scratchy beard brushing against his sturdy thighs felt entirely foreign but entirely arousing as he looked down at the young stud’s broad shoulders in disbelief. Whether he could wrap his head around it or not, he actually was being blown by another man.
He had no idea why any of this was happening. He’d never thought about a guy like this in his life. Getting a blowjob from a man wouldn’t have been out of the question, Jeff was content to get off however it happened, but the intense attraction? The overwhelming desire to reciprocate? That threw him.
So did what happened next. The young man had barely begun when Jeff suddenly spasmed and sprayed without warning. The handsome stud sucked it all down and grinned up at him. “That was fast,” he said, wiping his chin.
Jeff felt himself blush, blaming the alcohol for his lack of stamina. “Sorry…I, uh, I don’t usually…”
“It’s alright,” the grinning stranger said, standing and leading Jeff to the disheveled bedroom. “Just gives us time to get acquainted.”
Jeff’s stomach fluttered as the man pushed him down on the bed. He was usually the assertive one, yet here he was, naked on his back, letting someone younger and more hung than him take control.
The young stud lacked none of Jeff’s confidence as he stared down at the ripped man with a cocky grin. “Is this your first time with a guy?”
“N…nuh…” Jeff wanted to lie, but couldn’t. “…Uh, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You seemed nervous. Someone as hot as you wouldn’t be otherwise. Just relax, stud,” he said, draping himself over Jeff’s prone frame and working his mouth over every bit of the chiseled torso beneath him. “Jesus…you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he gasped, his hands clutching at the addled man’s strong chest.
“You’re not…so…bad either,” Jeff panted, his hands just as eagerly drinking in the young man’s sculpted frame.
“Yeah, you could definitely do worse for your first time,” the young man laughed, grinding his larger, rigid cock against Jeff’s smaller poker.
Despite his condescending tone, or, confusingly, because of it, the other man’s arrogance turned Jeff on even more. It was usually his role. Normally he was the smug one lording his superior body over someone, not the person on the receiving end. It was enough of a revelation to jar him into action. With a quick tensing of his athletic frame Jeff spun them over so that he was on top, mimicking what had just been done to himself. His tongue took its time tasting every inch of the younger man’s smooth, tight skin and the bulging muscles underneath.
Jeff knew this was the kind of person he’d compete with at the gym. Better built. Better hung. He’d go out of his way to one-up them, to prove that he was better. Now he felt anything but. All he wanted was the young man’s approval.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s not a race,” the young man laughed when Jeff’s tongue traveled down his washboard and finally swallowed his bulbous cock. “There you go…take it slow,” he sighed, slowing Jeff’s eager bobbing with his strong hands. Jeff felt his face burn at being instructed like some rookie virgin, but he did as instructed. The young man told him when to speed up and slow down, when to use his tongue, and when to grip tighter with his soft lips. Jeff picked up the rhythm, and soon the instructions trailed off into a series of quiet moans.
He was only dimly concerned about the fact that he had another man’s dick in his mouth for the first time. It wasn’t at all like he thought it would be. He’d always wondered why women were so eager to go down on him, but now he was starting to think that he understood. He breathed deep, drinking in the young stranger’s musky scent, feeling like he was getting the hang of his technique. But nothing could prepare Jeff for the sudden rush of warm, salty fluid filling his mouth. He sputtered and swallowed as much of it as he could, which still left most of it running down his chin.
“Everyone chokes their first time,” the young man laughed while the older man coughed and wiped his dripping face. “Good job, though. You’re a quick study.” Jeff blushed at the compliment more than the sensation of cum dripping down his chin and settled in bed next to the contented young jock. “Look at you, with your doe eyes,” he laughed as Jeff kept staring.
“Sorry, I just…I can’t seem to look away.”
The young man rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow so that he was looking down at Jeff. He used his free hand to stroke through the wiry hairs on the other man’s broad pecs and toy with the tiny nipples. “By all means, admire the view. You certainly look like you’re ready to go again,” he winked, nodding towards Jeff’s solid, oozing cock.
The confused stud didn’t look away from his young friend as he slowly reached towards his eager rod. Jeff wanted the smirking man to wrap his lips around him again more than anything, but it was clear from his amused expression that the young man was just going to watch.
Jeff turned crimson even as a thrill shot through him. He’d ever jerked off for an audience before. He’d been with girls that wanted to watch him do it, but it always made him uncomfortable, like he was the object, not them. They could look at him while he was fucking them all they wanted, but jerking off for them just made him feel weird. Now, weird or not, he grabbed and started stroking, never looking away from the perfect specimen next to him.
The young man’s demeaning laugh when Jeff came mere moments later sent a wave of humiliation mixing with the pleasure of his second, intense release. “Well, it’s been fun,” the young man sighed, patting Jeff on his sticky washboard stomach and hopping up from the bed. He slowly licked his fingers clean as he stretched and took his time getting dressed, letting the addled Jeff get a final look. “No, no, don’t get up. I can see myself out. You’ve got potential, squirt,” he smiled from the doorway.
The spent stud barely heard the door click shut before passing out.
Jeff had it made, and he knew it. His career was on track, he was in perfect shape, and he took home a different girl every night with the kind of ease that his friends would kill for. Everything came easy to him, and the fit stud loved to lord his gorgeous face and chiseled frame over others, never tiring of the attention they brought him. At least not until the day his clothes started disappearing right off his impressive body. As Jeff finds his envious looks put on display whether he wants them to be or not, will the handsome hunk find a way to stop things from spiraling out of control, or will he give in to the strange new desires growing with each piece of his vanishing wardrobe? And when it’s all over, will he even want to be the same?