Viral Loads Chapter 2: Transformation

By S. Q. Neemie & kuro -
published September 22, 2020
6229 words

Stuart and Gary try to fight their way to survival in a cum-drenched world.

Stuart was greeted by the mildly shocking sight of Gary, panting like he’d just been shot. Fluid spread across his shirt - though its colour gave away that it was precum. Whether it was from Gary or from someone else was an open question at this point… though Gary’s bare dick was pretty clearly leaking on the floor.

Letting himself into the - thankfully soundproofed - business centre and shutting the door behind him, he belatedly realised that it had been meant to be locked. Had Gary opened it in a heroic display of willpower, or had front desk guy - Jason, Stuart thought his name was - left in search of better prey?

“Hey, man,” Stuart whispered cautiously, trying to ignore the way his persistant erection was attempting to bust out of his tracksuit pants. “You okay?”

If Gary turned out to be a sex fiend, he wasn’t sure if he’d run or just give up at this point. No - he’d run. He’d definitely not surrender to the… oh, right. Gary’s cock looked normal - which meant that he had to be okay!

Stuart told himself that the feeling in his chest was relief and not disappointment.

“Oh, my fucking god, dude,” said Gary, jumping up. “Stuart, man–I–fuck, I’m a mess but I’m so fucking fucking glad to see you.” He crossed the distance between them in less than a second and grabbed Stuart for a hug before suddenly hesitating.

“Shit, dude, I’m so cummy,” he said. “I’m sorry. Fucking hard to remember that I’m buck bare, even. It’s just so good to see you.” He caught sight of Stuart eying his slightly plumped dick and hurriedly said, “Don’t worry, man, I’m clean–I swear it. I–uh–only licked the tiniest drop. Only something’s going really weird with my Johnson. Check it–”

He stood back so Stuart could take a good look at his crotch. Gary’s dick used to be on the smaller side–Stuart had teased him about his “pussy tickler” when they were kids–but now it looked like a very respectable seven and a half inches. As Stuart watched, Gary’s dick twitched and then stretched out another centimeter, growing fatter as it did. Gary grabbed the back of one of the chairs in the business center and moaned as his cock unfurled.

“Fuck, it feels so good when that happens, man,” he said. “It’s been growing every twenty minutes or so. I guess I ate enough cum that–” He shook himself and looked at Stuart, his eyebrows pulled together. “It’s really freaking me out, man. This is way more than I have a right to ask my bro, dude, but–um–can I see yours? It’d make me feel a lot better to–um– have the comparison.” He licked his lips. “No homo.”

“N-no homo, dude,” Stuart agreed, shucking his clothes in record time. The concealing hoodie and trackpants removed, Gary could see that his buddy - who’d always been kind of, well, average, was… actually looking kind of good. Toned, like he’d been using the gym daily for months.

Stuart’s cock - hard, which barely registered to Gary at this point beyond making his mouth water - was disappointingly thankfully still bang-on average, at about six and a half inches. Gary feebly told himself that perhaps Stuart was unaffected - like him! - and that the firm muscle he could see was just the result of hidden diligence.

A point - two points - against that theory were dangling pendulously beneath Stuart’s cock. Although Gary didn’t make a habit of eyeballing his friend’s junk, he was pretty sure that the lemon-sized balls he could see gently pulsing were large enough that they’d have made a sizeable, uh, impression on him before.

But what did it all mean? Gary’s own dick was slowly sprouting, but in no way to the same degree as everyone else he’d seen. Maybe that meant he’d adapt and be able to overcome the mental overload? And - Stuart’s dick wasn’t growing, but Gary was 90% sure that everything else about the guy was refining; becoming the best version of Stuart that there could be without making any additions.

Both of them could only hope that their strange, non-standard changes would shield them from whatever was cumming in their futures.

Gary found himself feeling shy in front of his naked, suddenly beautiful friend. “So…uh, what happened to you, man? You okay and all? It’s fucking good to see you, dude.”

Stuart opened his mouth to answer, but there was a sudden banging noise behind them. The two young men turned to see Jason, the apartment’s front desk attendant, pressed up against the frosted glass of the door to the apartment manager’s office. He was still wearing his fussy work clothes, but his enormous angry red cock was out and stickily stuck between Jason and the expensive glass. As Gary and Stuart watched, Jason and his outsized cock slowly slid across the glass with a high-pitched squeaking sound. A thick smear of dickjuice spread like a snail trail as Jason’s cock slid by.

“What the fuck?” said Stuart.

“I shut him in there,” said Gary, shrugging. “Apparently, he can figure out how to widen a glory-hole but he can’t turn a fucking doorknob. Fucker always was an idiot, but whatever happened to him made him fucking braindead, man.” He shook his head. "It’s not fucking safe here, dude, we gotta find a place to hide while we figure this out.”

“Did you at least lock it?” Stuart asked as they backed a little way away. “And… yeah, you’re right. I just stocked up in my apartment, so maybe we should try the stairwell again? Or we could try venture outside - but… that’s a bad idea,” he thought aloud, a single pearlescent drop of precum forming on his hard dick as he ruminated.

He was trying to keep his gaze off Gary’s dick - now a full inch and a half larger than his own, and mouthwateringly juicy - and think of a workable way forward, but the only help they could hope for was from outside sources. And who knew how the rest of the world was reacting to what was happening in the city - or if, for that matter, they were affected too.

“We should check a TV or something - maybe there’ll be messages about where to go,” Stuart said, wide eyes trying to fasten on Gary’s face and not head southwards. “Though in the movies that’s always because they’re gonna kill everyone, so… we should think about our options, right?” he asked.

“Fuck, I can’t think,” growled Gary. “This–all this shit that’s happening–it’s pretty distracting.” He licked his lips, not wanting to admit that his buddy’s newly honed physique was just as distracting, especially naked and hard and right in front of him.

“Um, should we check the computers, man?” he said. “They might have a connection, right? After that we can hole up in my place while we figure shit out.”

“Sweet idea,” said Gary. He crossed over to the nearest computer at the business center and tapped the keyboard. The screen remained dark. “Maybe it isn’t plugged in,” he muttered, leaning over to check the fat black cables coming out of the back of the machine.

Gary gasped as he saw his friend bend over in front of him, his cock jumping up rock-hard. Fuck, but Stuart had a nice ass now. Round and muscular and…manly. It was–almost–perfect.

Gary shook his head. This was Stuart! They’d had umpteen sleepovers as kids, and he’d never once checked out Stuart’s ass. But now he was thinking that the only thing missing from Stuart’s bubbly man-cheeks was–was–

Almost without thinking, Gary stepped forward. Grabbing his slowly-growing cock in his hand, he smeared a line of the dick-goop gathering on his swelling cockhead across the curve of Stuart’s right buttcheek. There. Now it was perfect. Gary stepped back to look at his handiwork and smiled happily.

Stuart turned to look at him, still bent over. “Um,” he said.

To be frank, Stuart had barely noticed that he was still naked - it felt normal, particularly with Gary in a somewhat similar state.

And - a little embarrassingly, maybe - his first reaction on feeling hard flesh against his ass was to thrust back, rather than to leap away like a scalded cat. Thankfully, he reined it in and played it cool - managing to quirk an eyebrow, like a cool, normal, doesn’t-want-to-fuck-his-best-friend kinda guy. Like the guy he was.

Like the guy he still was? It was too difficult to figure that out. Hearing Gary talk about getting ‘plugged in’ was firing his brain off in all kinds of weird directions, but- they were going to go and… go to his room.

Yeah, his bedroom would definitely be a safe place to hole up in. Emphasis on hole. And maybe they could, like, test each other out, intimately - to make sure they were both okay. That would be a pretty good way of checking, right?

Stuart’s lust-filled brain was so enamoured with the idea that he barely noticed the smear on his ass… beyond reaching down and automatically licking it off with a surprisingly long, dextrous tongue.

“Wow,” said Gary as he watched Stuart clean his fingers. “Um, we gonna talk about this, dude?”

“Talk about what?” said Stuart.

“This,” said Gary, reaching down to smack his hard, growing cock so it swung up and down. “And–this.” He reached over to smack Stuart’s hard cock, but at the last minute he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled. Stuart shuddered as his best friend’s fingers caressed his sensitive cock.

“Like, why am I so into this?” said Gary, letting the tips of his fingers play across the sensitive head of Stuart’s manhood. “Ever since this morning I’ve just wanted–men.”

“Yeah,” said Stuart, grimacing Gary’s hand momentarily tightened around his throbbing member.

“But now I want– you,” growled Gary, switching his careful stroking into a hard fisting of Stuart’s cock. “I want you and I have no idea what the fuck that means.”

“Shit, man, I get it,” said Stuart.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” asked Gary, twisting his fist around Stuart’s cockhead and then skinning down the length.

“Oh,” grunted Stuart. “I guess–a little weird. But I’m–kinda into it.”

“Fuck, so we’re gay for each other now? I’ve never been gay before,” said Gary, squeezing Stuart’s straining cockroot. “Um–how do I do it?”

“I… is this the right place to talk about it?” Stuart asked, sending an uncomfortable glance over at Jason’s fat, dripping cock - easily visible through the window. “I think we might be being - influenced - but… I can’t think straight. Haha, can’t be straight, right?”

“But, like-” he glanced down at Gary’s sure hand, which was fondling the head of his dick without any resistance from either of them - “Like, y’know. We said ‘no homo’ earlier, so it can’t be - too bad, can it?”

Stuart’s speech was getting more irregular, interspersed with occasional gasps as his good-sized dick was steadily, uncertainly jerked off by his best friend. Something about the experience was viscerally right - it felt, well, like his dick was made for his bro’s hands. And vice-versa.

“Even if we do do anything, I don’t want Jason over there to- to interrupt,” Stuart admitted, cockhead beginning to bead with fat droplets of precum that were quickly stroked into the skin of the shaft by Gary’s continuing ministrations.

“Shit, you’re right,” breathed Gary, his hand still going up and down. “With all this in front of me, I almost forgot it was the end of the fucking world. Let’s get to my apartment, yeah? We’ll be safe there to do–fuck, whatever.”

Gary reluctantly let go of Stuart’s quivering dick and led the way out of the business center. He was halfway up the stairs to his apartment when he suddenly realized he should have let Stuart go ahead, so he could watch the flex and curve of his buddy’s ass as they climbed.

But–maybe–Stuart was watching him? He glanced back but couldn’t tell. At least his hunky friend’s cock was still rock-hard, bobbing in front of him like a flagpole.

Gary opened the door on the third storey and the two of them stepped into the hallway leading to Gary’s apartment. No sooner had they come through the door than there was a lustful roar that shook the walls. The young men turned to see Mr. Hargreaves, the building manager, at the other end of the hall. Well, it looked like Mr. Hargreaves, if he had suddenly pumped up with thick smooth muscle, stripped naked, and then grown a cock so huge and fat that it dragged along the ground beneath his feet.

Mr. Hargreaves roared again, and the impossible firehose spooling out of his crotch went instantly rigid in one amazing move that flung his cockhead up off the floor to land almost on the newly beefy older man’s shoulder. The towering cock rippled, it’s veins pulsing, and a thick cascade of hot white cum splashed on Mr. Hargreaves’s head, soaking his dark hair and dripping from his mustache. With a third bellow, the apartment manager began to charge toward where Gary and Stuart stood.

Gary grabbed Stuart’s arm. “Holy fuck, dude! What do we do?” he squeaked. “Run!” said Stuart, and the two of them bolted down the hall.

They fled, bolting pell-mell down the hallway - unfortunately featureless, with no places to hide more than a few seconds. Getting a door locked and bolted would have been an excellent deterrent, even against Hargreaves, but they were in the wrong place to get to Gary’s - and Stuart’s was on a different floor.

They’d have split up, but they knew it was best to stick together - otherwise one of them might be replaced by a pod person, and the other would never know… until it was too late, and a massive, dribbling, hot cock was impaling their throat-

Rounding a corner, they saw the open door of flat 211 and made the collective snap decision to dash in, pushing the door to and locking it as quickly and quietly as they could manage. Moments later, the pounding, resounding sounds of Hargreaves shot past - missing their escape entirely.

Breathing twin sighs of relief, the largely-unclothed friends sank against the wall - before taking in the apartment they were now in. There weren’t any signs of life at first glance, but who could tell?

“Shit, man,” said Gary, panting. “I don’t know if I can take more of this.”

“Tell me about it,” said Stuart.

Gary leaned his head against the door and let out a long, ragged breath. Then he turned around and said, “Anyone home?”

There was no answer. The two near-naked men looked around the flat. It was a standard design and appeared to be empty. The sheets on the bed were twisted and stained with spent cum, but that was the only indication that anyone had been in the flat in the last few hours.

“Thank Christ,” said Gary, collapsing on the couch. “I could use a break from all the running.”

“Think whoever’s flat this in has the key and could get back in?” asked Stuart.

“Geez, I dunno,” said Gary. “Let’s see if the news is on or something.” He flicked the apartment’s TV on. The screen showed the local news anchor bent over his desk, naked except for his tie, making little oof noises as a tattooed boom operator wearing a backward baseball cap roughly pummeled his asshole with a cock that looked like it was thirteen inches or more.

Gary and Stuart watched in silence for a few minutes as the handsome anchorman got reamed out by the fat film crew sausage, trying not to look at each other–or their growing reactions to seeing the minor celebrity get worked over by a well-thrown fuck.

Stuart’s cock was diamond-hard, but it was still the same size as always, he assured himself - comparing against Gary’s as a yardstick. Gary must’ve been - what, nine, ten inches? It was under a foot, which was what was important. Otherwise he’d have had to… do something about it. He was split on what, precisely. Punching Gary? Using his ass? His mouth? He’d figure it out if it came to that.

Stroking his 7.5" dick absently - he was sure it had always been that long; no way he’d ever been less - Stuart reluctantly confirmed the flat was free of enormous peen and then threw himself onto the cumstained sheets, exhausted after the day they’d had.

“C’mon, dude, let’s get- let’s take a load off,” he suggested, instinctively rubbing the cum from the sheets into his bare skin with slight motions.

“We’ll give it a bit and then try the hall again. Maybe there’ll be something on the other channels?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Gary as he joined his friend on the bed. “Fuck, tho, this–whatever it is–has got me so horned up I don’t think I’ll be able to nap or anything.”

“Close your eyes, maybe,” said Stuart, “see what happens.”

For some reason, that slight suggestion from his buddy–had his lips always looked that good?–was enough to make Gary’s dick jump again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Involuntarily, his hand went to his slowly expanding dick and began stroking it slowly.

“I love having a cock,” he blurted out.

“What?” said Stuart.

“I know it’s a weird thing to say,” said Gary, “but I fucking love having this pleasure rod right here at the center of my body. I love how it feels when it’s wrapped up in my briefs, man, or when I’m scrubbing it in the shower. Fuck, I love waking up in the morning and giving it a little handshake first thing. Why the fuck aren’t we dudes throwing parades for our dicks twenty-four seven, man? We should be waving them out at every opportunity. Shit, in my perfect world every dude out there would go round with his donger dangling free, and there’d be no shame in appreciating that every dude you meet has a sex python curled up in his lap. Fuck! Can you imagine that? Giving your bro a hug and just–rubbing off on him? Going to the club and watching all the dudes’ salamis windmill around while they dance? Shit, it would be…fucking Utopia, man.”

He opened his eyes to see Stuart watching him. “Sound crazy, I guess,” he said. “But, fuck it–its how I feel.” He kept stroking his expanding member, now watching Stuart’s eyes–and maybe his lips?

There ws a lengthy silence, as Stuart looked at and around Gary - face inscrutable. Eventually, he took a little breath, rolling his shoulders; he’d resolved the question in his head to his satisfaction for the moment.

“Y’know,” he ventured, a little cautiously, “Utopia’s something that you have to create one step at a time. So, like - we could start making things perfect… just in this apartment, for example. Make a little perfect world, just the two of us.”

His suggestion was accompanied by his hand giving his bared cock an obvious stroke - not at all like the failingly-subtle gropes he’d previously attempted to pass off as minor adjustments. No, this was clearly the precursor to jacking off - in front of a buddy, just as Gary had suggested would be the ideal.

Of course, Gary was already jacking off - but they both got a little faster as they watched the other masturbate, rubbing their bare skin against the cumslick bedding. The continuing subtle infiltration of their systems only encouraged them to get more obvious with their motions. “…What else would your perfect world be, dude?” Stuart asked, in a failed attempt at nonchalance.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” said Gary, staring with rapt facsination at Stuart’s hand gliding over his perfect cock. “I guess in a Utopia like that I wouldn’t worry if it sounded weird to tell you that you have the most delicious-looking dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah?” said Stuart. Was he settling into the bed or scooting a little closer?

“Yeah,” said Gary, swallowing. “It wouldn’t be gay at all for me to say that it’s got me drooling over here. It’d be normal guy talk. You know–‘dude, did you smash that chick? Want to play some ball? Can I bury that fuckstick down to my tonsils?’” He was starting to breathe heavily, his hand skinning up and down on his dick.

“Shit, dude,” said Stuart, still stroking.

“Fuck, it’s more than that,” said Gary. He had the strange feeling he was trying to say something important, but didn’t know how. “There’s something in there about fucking celebrating that we both got a pud to pound on, yeah? Part of me wants to grab you and just–celebrate.” His edged dick twitched and he growled. “Man, the thought of grabbing you has really got me going. Look at this.” He pulled a long clear string of precum off his cockhead. For a second he stared at the man-honey pearled on his finger. Then he shrugged and stuck his finger into his mouth–maybe a little deeper than he needed to?

Stuart was drinking in the sight of Gary’s wanton lascivious sucking - though he was more than a little antsy at the fact that the guy was sucking himself. And not even the right part of himself, too - so he figured that maybe he could… uh, test whether Gary was still safe.

And what better way to do that than to sample some of the pre from Gary’s increasingly-monstrous rod? The 10.5" cock was producing copious amounts of pre - enough for him to be able to swipe along the head, barely brushing the sensitive skin, and come away with a dripping hand of delicious scientifically-useful pre. With his other hand, he dipped down to his 8" cock - dripping less, which was a good sign that he was still unaffected by the changes that had come over the rest of the city.

Thank God he was immune - and that Gary appeared to be completely lucid and normal, in spite of his slowly growing leviathan. Like his best friend had suggested, that was something to celebrate.

As he lapped up his friend’s pre after eating some of his own, he considered the taste critically. It was maybe a bit sweeter than his, but… he needed more data. And maybe his hand was biasing the results? Should he try and get some straight from the source?

“Fuck, man,” breathed Gary, watching his best friend intently. “You tasted me.”

Stuart nodded.

“Jesus,” grunted Gary. “You always were a cheeky bastard.”

“You said you wanted to,” said Stuart.

“Yeah, but you just went ahead and did it,” said Gary. He was breathing hard. “You swabbed my fucking cockhead with your finger and licked it off like a slutty popsicle. Fuck! That’s the sweetest thing…” He shifted around so that his enormous dick climbed up closer to Stuart’s face. Bending over, he whispered directly into Stuart’s ear. “Did you like it, bro? Tell me how it tasted.”

“I don’t think I will,” Stuart smirked, internally chuckling at how Gary’s face fell at his refusal. “…I’d much rather show you my appreciation.”

After all, Gary was his best friend, and he did want to get some unbiased scientific data on how uninfected Gary was. Sucking his bro’s dick accomplished multiple goals, not the least of which was that his throat was feeling pretty bereft of dick. But - best not look too eager.

Stuart’s method of playing hard-to-get was to mouth Gary’s cock, tonguing the alphabet into the spongy head as he drank straight from the source. Doing something straight was… yeah, that was definitely good, and he could have just deepthroated the dude, instead: he was definitely scoring perfect tens on both his scientific rigour as well as his completely heterosexual metrics.

Just to add a finishing touch, he started fondling his mate’s heavy balls, watching TV at the same time. It wasn’t gay if the balls touched, right?

Gary was fighting a groan as his friend’s lips fluttered around his cockhead and Stuart’s hands worked a surprisingly competent magic on his twitching, swollen balls. His dick was lately acting like it had a mind of its own, but it was Gary himself who was trying not to enjoy this brojob too loudly, and it was Gary’s hand that was resting lightly on the back of Stuart’s head, giving him the smallest of pushes so that the warm wet mouth flicking over his pulsating dickhead knew it was okay to settle in.

Perverted thoughts began lazily flicking through Gary’s head as he began to grip Stuart’s hair a little tighter and push Stuart’s greedy head down a little further. He imagined how he was going to say hello to Stuart from here on out. None of this handshake/hug combo bullshit. The new official way of saying hello was a passionate tonsil-deep tongue kiss as he picked his beefy friend off the floor and wedged his ever-growing cock between Stuart’s thighs so that his buddy had to straddle his manhood as they made out. And no more wagering a round of beers on whoever won their one-on-one b-ball games. From here on out the loser had to open his mouth and swallow whatever the other dude wanted to give him. And no more yakking about their sexual conquests. From here on out, when they wanted to talk about what they’d done to girls, they had to be naked in bed for a full practical demonstration.

Gary imagined being in bed with Stuart and showing his bro just exactly where his last girlfriend had liked him to stick his tongue. Despite himself, he gasped out loud at the thought.

Given that they were currently sitting on the edge of a bed - and that Stuart’s hands were slowly levering Gary back onto the cum-stained sheets - it was possible that his fantasy might not be a million miles away from being fulfilled.

Encouraged by the hands tangling in his hair, Stuart kept going, blowing his mouth wide as he fed inch after inch of straining, unnaturally long cock into the waiting column of his throat. Stuart was imagining that a full-on sixty-nine would be a good way of greeting the other after having to part for too long - and… it wouldn’t be fair if they weren’t rewarded for sticking together, so maybe they could take turns hotdogging between the other bro’s cheeks as a way of acknowledging the closeness of their bond?

Sooner rather than later, Stuart was impaled on eight inches of dick… but there were, of course, more to go; Gary had always been blessed by the Gods with a dick that just wouldn’t quit. But Stuart was never a one to quit, either; he’d not stop until he was gargling his friend’s balls with Gary’s stick shoved all the way down his oesophagus. That would really seal the deal, showing the world that they were just good, masculine bros - nothing gay at all about having to breathe through your nose because your mouth was occupied with a foot of cockflesh.

A vague alarm bell over the fact Gary’s dick was over 12" long was smothered along with most of the rest of Stuart’s conscious thought - instead, he actively decided to relish sealing his lips around the very base of his mate’s dick, humming all the while.

Gary’s hands gripped tighter in Stuart’s hair and he began rolling his hips on the filthy bedsheets, plugging and unplugging Stuart’s stretched-out lips as he began to engage the blow job. “Jesus fuck,” he whispered as Stuart’s expert–how? HOW could he be so good at this??–throat gripped his engorged schlong.

“Holy God, buddy,” said Gary as Stuart’s flexible lips finally brushed the hairy root of his manhood. “This is officially my new favorite way to watch TV.”

Stuart hummed in response–maybe he was agreeing? It was hard for Gary to tell because the friction of the hum shivering up his fat, sensitive pole was making him see stars. “Holy Jesus fuck,” he said again.

There was a strange group of feelings battling for control in Gary’s head. Part of him wanted to leap up, slam his best friend in the wall, and shove his Stuart-slicked cock up his buddy’s virgin ass, banging him until Stuart was as limp as a cumrag and just as soaked with Gary’s skuzz. The other part of him wanted to pull his buddy onto his lap and see how those lips flexing around his pud did at more–delicate–kissing work. Gary grunted. Was he more prepared to be a sex zombie or some kind of queer Hallmark card? He honestly wasn’t sure. If only his toes would unflex from all the brain short-circuiting Stuart was causing with his talented tongue.

Inaction was - as always - a decision of its own; Stuart widened his jaw impossibly, using his fingers to stuff Gary’s fat nuts into his waiting maw. The athletic young man could have sworn that the pole was getting girthier in his throat, but that only made his own neglected cock harden yet further.

Either way, Gary was being rendered helpless beneath the vacuum of his pal’s lips; his judgement was gradually fleeing his brains and exiting from his slightly-smaller head in the form of gushing precum. The pre in turn helped lube up Stuart’s throat, which flexed gamely around its increasingly-large lodger.

In an effort to draw yet more cock inside him, Stuart’s hands ran around Gary’s hips, pulling him towards his mouth… and also cupping his ass. Almost as if on autopilot, his fingers began migrating inwards, around the curve of his buddy’s cheeks and towards the flexing hole that winked between.

Stuart’s finger brushed the tight muscle of Gary’s asshole, which sent an electric jolt through his Stuart-soaked balls and still-inflating dick. The massive member now winched beyond reason inside Stuart’s obscenely stretched mouth gathered more mass, each extra millimeter giving Gary added sensations as his cock wormed its way through his best friend. Gary had the mental image of a snake detaching it’s jaw to swallow something as large as its own body as he gamely tried to fuck his tightly wedged dick into Stuart’s overstuffed mouth.

Another curious finger lingered at his tight hole and Gary groaned in abandon. “Ass, I want ass,” he growled. As if in answer, his well-toned arms suddenly twitched, bulking up with each flex. Soon his arms were as large as most men’s legs, and the pecs between them were growing too.

No longer caring to know what was causing all these changes, Gary grinned wickedly as he moved to stand up, pulling his friend along by his chin to the side of the bed. Grabbing Stuart’s hips, Gary hauled the handsome man up ass-first so that his ankles were in the sky and gravity was driving Gary’s swollen cock even deeper into Stuart’s throat. Pulling apart Stuart’s legs, Gary dove greedily into his friend’s asshole with his tongue, spearing the tight, musty muscle. Stuart moaned and his hands wrapped around Gary’s generous asscheeks again. Pressed upside down against his buddy, Stuart’s now-drooling cock slotted perfectly into the cleft between Gary’s growing pecs, the flexing and wriggling muscles squeezing his cock so pleasurably that the thin stream of precum turned up like a fountain, splattering over Stuart’s suckling chin.

On the flickering television screen that both men were ignoring, the anchor had accrued three further gentlemen to service him - another burly crewmember, the scatterbrained weatherman, whose toupée had been unseated by a fresh shock of hair that had sprouted from his scalp, and a whimpering executive whose eyes were rapidly filming over in spite of the babbled protests he was still gasping out - even as his cock was eagerly squeezed into a tight throat.

Positioned like a particularly daring sword-swallower, Stuart felt his friend’s tongue broaden and lengthen, delving deep inside his juicy hole. Instinctively, the man tried replicating Gary’s motions with his fingers, thrusting entire digits inside his buddy’s grasping, gaping orifice.

Beyond their doors, a floor further up, their bullish superintendent was learning the joys of bottoming, as a freckle-faced nerd with a cock that was fully half as long as his full height put it to good use deep inside Mr Hargreaves. His smooth muscle was focused entirely on easing the way of the massive tool; his bellowing roars were that of pure, submissive pleasure.

The sheets the two friends writhed upon were curiously free of fluids - while crinkly and a bit uncomfortably crisp, the jizz that had previously rimed the duvet was percolating through two quite different systems - and having remarkably different effects on each individual. While Gary expanded with thick muscle, Stuart’s slender cock was finally beginning to plump; the rest of him, on the other hand, grew more slender and twinkish with each passing breath.

Gary’s eyes were fixed on the TV, enjoying the debauched sight of the two crew members repeatedly lifting the howling weatherman and slamming him ass first on the engorged dick of the news anchor, their own python-like genitals freely spraying the two with splash after splash of scalding sex-zombie cum even as they performed the function of a living sex-swing.

Gary could feel his tongue widen and lengthen, a twin sensation to the ever-expanding cock now fully impaled into Stuart’s face. The root of his tongue was squeezed by the vicelike grip of Stuart’s tightening hole even as the wickedly pointed tip mauled his quivering friend’s prostate. His torso was soaked by Stuart’s pre-torrent, and he gleefully squeezed Stuart’s now-slender torso against his bulk, enjoying the delicate vibrations along his crammed-in cock when Stuart groaned lustily around it.

Gary felt like he could stand there forever, with his dick and his tongue fighting to shake hands through Stuart’s twinky body, but all the stimulation was having its effect and he could feel a hot, wet tidal wave of cum building in his balls, which were still dripping from Stuart’s earlier gargling.

Gary’s saliva felt more potent than usual - he was weeping cum through it, infiltrating his lover with yet more of the poisoned gift that was ravaging the city. The comparatively small dosage was, however, dwarfed by the pulsing sheets that ripped through his shaft, shooting down Stuart’s gullet and slamming into his stomach with a tremendous power.

Stuart’s eyes widened, but all he did in response was to relax his throat yet further… and, involuntarily, to sluice his orgasm across his buddy’s abdominals and wash his face with the run-off.

An interminable amount of time later, Gary collapsed backwards onto the bed - thoughts of his apartment bare whispers in his skull. Even the homoerotic justifications for going down on a guy held the lightest purchase on what remained of his psyche: for him, and almost all that remained in the city, all that remained was the basest of ids.

Carefully, he pulled the cum-stuffed Stuart off his fire hose, which seemed to wriggle deliciously of its own accord as it slithered out of the now twinkified throat.

“Good?” asked Gary.

Stuart didn’t answer, but he did snuggle up to Gary’s huge form, wrapping his arms around the dick that lay between them like a flesh body pillow. Twin smiles of satisfaction on their lips, the two young men drifted off to sleep, their enormous cocks twitching as they dreamed of the brave new world they would explore in the morning.

Mind control
Wanking material
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